#'these are the few new lines dipshit'

[cathalbravecog]

hi, rising from my inactivity to ask - does anyone have a list of all the new mgr lines? preferably without going to another blog. (so, just reblog please! or send an ask)

id check myself but i really can't bother today im not gonna pressure myself. i did some fights yesterday before the bugfix (and me having to sleep) but with horrid luck got only 1 line i recognized as new - with This Horrid Luck and the amt of time it takes to fight some mgrs it'd take me Forever so i wanna ask if anyone has gotten them compiled so far because i'd really like to read them !!

thank you!!

[wannaeatramyeon]

Meeting Student!Gun Park for the First Time: Part 2

Please read Part 1 first! G/N. 4.6k. Remember when Gun wanted to get his GED? Well. Stranger to~ Masterlists

As far as first impressions go, yours went terribly. Gun can count on no hands the amount of people that have spoken to him like you did and lived to tell the tale.

Make no mistake, the sum total of which is zero. Zero spoke to him like that and lived to tell the tale.

It's like you have no manners and absolutely no sense of self-preservation.

But, he figures, he's finally doing his GED after the whole murderous stint and juvie and light dabbling in gang wars. Maiming a fellow classmate on the first day would leave an even worse first impression with the rest of the class than yours with him, therefore he should really try to behave himself.

Besides, he would never hear the end of it from Goo if he dropped out, or worse got kicked out, so he picked his battles and took your insults as best he could. 

Somehow miraculously managed to hold back from reaching across the screen to give you a well deserved ass whooping when you asked him if he was on the verge of a mid-life crisis. He schooled his face and took a drag of his cigarette instead.

At least, if nothing else, you're entertaining.

You also reminded him that small talk was a thing when you asked what he liked to do for fun. He couldn't remember the last time anyone asked, if anyone even did, although you don't really make this sort of conversation in his line of work and it is hard for Gun to find time to make chit chat with someone as he's usually the one brutally assaulting them in a fight.

And he had such good intentions with enrolling in school again so why not tell you he likes gaming. 

That's a perfectly Normal hobby, right? 

Even as he says those words, they stick in his throat like he's confessing something shameful and it comes out strangled and strange.

He moves on to more familiar territory by reframing his bloodlust as training and martial arts, which also sounds very Normal to Gun's ears.

A few more things that he can barely remember are mentioned to present himself as a very Normal individual and he isn't embarrassed to admit to himself he's pleased with how this has gone.

After all, the majority of his working day is spent with Goo and Goo is, to put it politely, an unhinged dipshit, and their conversations usually also have that kind of vibe. Gun is aware enough to watch his tongue in this conversation with you, and the fact you haven't looked terrified or called the police can only work in his favour.

What piqued his curiosity most of all though, is your threat to kick his ass.

(On Tekken, but still.)

So much confidence in your own ability, so much faith in your skills.

(On Tekken, but still.)

Alas, that night he finds out it's misplaced and you have severely overestimated himself and/or underestimated him.

But still. 

He remains curious about you.

You show absolutely no fear, no ulterior motive, no nothing, in the way you speak to him and seem to have latched on to him rather than anyone else in the class, and Gun is... 

Charmed.

He finds you oddly endearing.

Then when he sees the back of your head as he makes his way into the classroom for the first time and decides to sit next to you, the way you blatantly check him out doesn't hurt either.

People ogling Gun isn't anything new, but what is new is how much he likes it from you.

He makes up his mind to keep his seat next to you. Even if your gaze does linger a moment too long on his hair and makes him wonder if he used enough gel on it when he styled it that morning.

And although you caught him doodling and insult his masterpieces repeatedly - you also balanced it out by helping him with Literature, which truth be told, he is extremely grateful for. He forgives your missteps and your teasing.

Over time, Gun finds that he likes your company. Traits that would be annoying as shit with other people he finds sweet with you, including your unrefined taste in coffee.

As a bonus, you also don't balk at the tidbits of his life he shares. In fact it should really be a little troubling how grey your morals are, how easily you take it in stride for someone that seems like a normal well-adjusted(ish) civilian.

All in all, this never happens. Ever.

Never has anyone held his attention like you do, and for him to test the waters like he has done.

Gun likes to think he has good judgement, takes very calculated risks. This, he decides, is worth pursuing. Exploring.

With not so much a leap of faith but maybe just a tiny hop, Gun opens up his home to you.

.

.

.

.

You think you're in love with Gun Park.

This realisation hits you at 5am, when you're lying in his bed and he has done the gentlemanly thing of taking the sofa. It hits you because only a few hours ago, he had pulled you into his lap, looked at you and held you so tenderly then didn't kiss you.

The fact that he hadn't kissed you, and you're in love with a very questionable person sends you into a mental crisis.

Fuck.

He's secretive enough, letting you in on various elements of his life and you manage to piece together that he can only be up to no good.

There's no shades of grey in his life, only copious amounts of crimson from bloodshed, and a twisted sense of morals and principles he lives by.

You know by now he hangs around far too much with someone called Goo, who sounds like the personification of a headache and annoys him to no end but also seems to be the only friend he has. Speaks too highly of a Charles that you know is shady despite never having met the guy. There's also an Eli that he mentions like he's the one that got away.

You can live with all of that and the questionable amount of hair product he uses.

What you are in fact struggling to get to grips with is:

This man lives in a junkyard. Like some kind of violent, sexy raccoon.

A voice in your head that sounds scarily like your mother, lectures you about prospects and picking a man with no future.

Well, for one - he's back in school.

See mom, you're wrong.

He also seems to do very well for himself despite literally living amongst trash (you handwave away his blood money and unscrupulous methods to earn said money) so that's another point for Gun.

And what sort of person, who lives between piles of scrap metal and discarded appliances, has such a luxurious bed.

You're sure the bedding thread count is in the thousands. Instead of researching the cure to cancer or how to travel faster than light, scientists have researched the comfiest mattress known to man and has created this that you're currently lying on.

So maybe this violent sexy raccoon is actually a prize.

Regardless.

You seem to have hitched yourself quite willingly to this wagon and now your biggest issue, that leaves you tossing and turning into the early hours of the morning, is still-

Why the fuck didn't he kiss you.

And how could he, after sharing such a sweet moment, push you off his lap and kick your ass on Tekken for 5 straight rounds.

What a bastard.

.

.

At some point you must have drifted off to sleep and you awake to the smell of deliciousness.

Something is being fried and you melt thinking your raccoon king is cooking breakfast for you. Who knew he was this sweet and thoughtful.

What is even better though, somewhat masked by the sizzling, is if you listen hard enough, you think Gun might even be humming. Even the perfect bed can't keep you from pressing your ear up against the bedroom door when you connect the dots that he is humming a popular K-Pop song that you have listened to on loop 50 times the week prior.

You yank open the door with force, "A-ha!" and point in his direction, gleeful at catching him doing something so un-Gun like.

Gun, in the middle of plating 2 omelettes, whips his head to you and stills, looking like a deer caught in headlights or a raccoon caught in headlights, rather.

You ask him, with a shit eating grin,  if he's a big fan of the K-Pop group but it drops at his lack of reaction when he just shrugs and responds simply with a yes.

Damnit.

Of course you know it's not really anything to be ashamed of but it's so unexpected from Gun, that would it kill him to blush a little or act a little abashed? You expected something at least a little entertaining from his initial surprise, but you suppose anyone would act like that if a deranged house guest accosted them first thing in the morning after they so kindly made breakfast too.

As a consolation, after the let-down, you double take when you realise Gun had been cooking topless and remains topless this entire time.

In all his muscled glory. Pecs and abs and everything. Delicious broad shoulders and an enticing light trail of hair from below his belly button and stretching down, down, down into his sweatpants.

You gulp, trying to calm yourself down. You know you are staring so so obviously but you can't find it in yourself to look away.

Gun clears his throat as if to say my eyes are up here, and hands you a plate.

.

.

While you still have self control and before you outstay your welcome, you say bye to Gun after breakfast mentioning you have some errands to run.

It's a poor excuse but you didn't taste a bite of that omelette, brain too fixated on the man seated opposite and wondering if what he's hiding in his trousers matches the energy he gives off.

He offers to take you home and you insist on walking by yourself. You reason to yourself the fresh air after such a heady night and all the over excitement from this morning would do you good.

You say your goodbyes at his door, him leaning against the doorway, still unbearably tantalisingly shirtless and enough to distract you from the junkyard setting, with his arms folded and a smirk on his face as you stand there-

Standing and waiting and expecting.

You're pretty sure Gun wants to kiss you. There's a challenge in his eyes and you know he is teasing you.

The fact that you stared at him before like a slack-jawed moron also indicates full well what you would like him to do.

A goodbye kiss isn't too much to ask for (not that you're going to ask) but he continues to also lean and wait and smirk shirtlessly and god, this is the most awful hair-pulling frustrating game of chicken you have played.

For a moment you consider yanking him down and kissing him, hard and desperate, and making your way back inside to the most comfortable bed that has ever existed. For an even briefer moment you consider biting his pec and leaving a ring of teeth marks.

In the end, you can only muster "bye then," and to your dismay, your voice comes out whiny.

There's no hiding your disappointment.

Gun’s smirk grows wider at your tone and he relents and gives a peace offering in the form of a kiss on your cheek.

He pulls you into his body, arm wrapped around your waist and he dips down, grazes his lips featherlight to your cheek.

It's chaste. Impossibly tender and surprisingly sweet.

Damn.

You forget how to breathe and you feel like you're on fire as he murmurs bye into your ear. Later, you'll chastise yourself for letting Gun affect you like this with something so innocent.

You untangle from him and feel your legs wobble when you step off the porch and make your way back home.

Gun chuckles but you don't hear it.

You don't form a coherent thought again until that evening, when Gun beats you on Tekken and in a fit of rage and frustration, you finally break your controller.

.

.

To make things fair, Gun’s dislike of Literature is offset by how knowledgeable he is with Biology.

The human body, to be precise, and alarmingly so. Maybe serial killer levels of knowledge, with how much he knows about organs and muscles and tissues and everything in between.

He explains that it's useful for training, as if that's any explanation at all for his extensive knowledge. However, you've seen his body and heard enough about his past and yes, including his actual training, to realise that it does make sense in a way and you let it go.

Well.

Maybe you would have fought it a bit harder if you yourself was any good with biology but you're not. If he's great at it because he's a serial killer, then fortune favours the bold and you might as well take advantage of it.

Gun is a very very good teacher, which you did not predict and in a way you didn't expect.

His jaw is tense and the grip on the textbook tightens after you get the answer wrong for the 15th time and when you think he's about to whack you with said textbook, he closes his eyes and counts to ten.

When he opens them again, he tries another method with you. Then another. And another.

Truly, you did not think he had this sort of tolerance or patience.

He explains things simply and calmly (though you've noticed he has started to grit out his words). Unfortunately you still find all this theory hard to wrap your head around.

"Are you going to hit me?" You ask.

"Yes," Gun says though he doesn't. He looks more like he's going to ram his head through a wall. Neither happens and he continues to work through the textbook with you.

Hours later, it clicks.

You feel something of a genius even if Gun’s hair resembles a bird nest from the amount of time he has ran his fingers through in exasperation.

.

.

After finding out that you broke your controller, Gun buys you a new one immediately.

He's very generous and kind, you think, and it may be the first time in existence anyone has considered Gun as kind. 

Until you realise he has other reasons for doing so.

That night, and for several nights after too, Gun is merciless when he KOs you. Each match is shorter than the previous.

You register this is payback for the biology stint. It's got to be.

.

.

Nevertheless, because you're the bigger person and you take the defeats on the chin, as thanks and in an almost mirror image of Gun repaying your Literature help, you suggest taking him out for a coffee.

Getting a coffee to-go and hand delivering it would be much easier, but you can't bring yourself to order an espresso for someone even if it is their drink of choice.

You take him to one of your favourite coffeehouses. Somewhere much less lavish than the one he frequents and much more agreeable to your meagre pockets although the coffee is just as good.

"Two espressos," Gun says at the counter.

"One," you cut in firmly, holding yourself back from gagging. If you have to pay for it, you won't be drinking that bitter sludge. You rattle off your usual: a monstrosity made with double-digit syrup pumps and whipped cream and Gun flinches in your periphery.

Despite your insistence, he beats you to the punch and pays for the order anyway. Not before adding a jab that your coffee, if you can even call it a coffee, is the worst thing he has ever had the misfortune to spend money on.

"Try it," you offer, when your drink is in your hand and Gun watches every sip with mounting horror.

"No," His mouth is pressed into a thin line and he looks like he has half a mind to knock the cup out of your hand. He refrains, clenches his knuckles and rests them on his knee.

He closes his eyes and counts to ten.

You watch him, heartily enjoying your sugary drink and sucking noisily on the straw. He twitches and starts counting from one again. You feel a surge of affection.

.

.

Without any other plans, both of you amble together through the quiet streets. You window-shop as Gun smokes next to you and attempts to buy everything that you set your eye on.

You tell him thanks but no thanks and continue to look at pretty trinkets and funky decor. In the glass reflection, you notice Gun fondly looking at you.

"Hi," you smile, turning towards him. He looks more handsome than ever in the sunlight. You don't even mind the amount of gel in his hair.

"Hey," he says, low and hushed. He steps towards you, leaving only a hairbreadth of air in between and tips your chin up to face him with his fingers.

You notice his pupils are blown wide, flickering down to your lips. Gun dips down at the same time you press up onto your tiptoes, and you feel his chest against yours, his other arm winding around your waist, breath fanning over your skin-

This is it, you think, finally.

This, sadly, is not it.

"GUN!" you hear a voice screeching. You both tear your attention from each other to the shrill noise.

A blonde guy in the loudest suit you have ever cast your eyes upon is waving manically in your direction.

"Do you know him?" you ask and Gun's lips are thinner than you have ever seen.

"No."

"GUN!"  The blonde yells again and you raise an eyebrow at your companion.

His face looks pained as he tells you that is Goo Kim and when you ask if you both should go over and say hi, he snaps back absolutely not with a frown.

"Let's go," he says, lacing his fingers with yours and pulling you in the opposite direction. Behind you, you hear cackling and Gun hastens his footsteps as if being chased by a deranged spirit.

You don't see the blonde again for the rest of the day although Gun’s phone seems to be going off every other minute. 

The moment you had is never quite recaptured. You can't bring yourself to mind too much though, as Gun never lets go of your hand.

And everytime he catches you smiling at your hand in his, he gives you a light squeeze and returns the smile.

.

.

If you thought school would be all cutesy and you would take turns in helping each other with topics you're stuck on, you're wrong.

Turns out, both you and Gun are equally bad at math.

You watch, face blank, at your screen as the teacher explains algebra. At least, you think that’s what the jumble of numbers and letters are because your ears refuse to make sense of the words.

You search the monitor for Gun to see how well he is faring and find him staring dead-eyed.

Not very, then.

In class, you see Gun's textbook with some attempt at notes in the margin before devolving into his lewd stick men doodles that he still insists are fighting stances.

"You shouldn't cover your page in smut. No wonder you're bad at this." You tease.

He doesn't look at you, doesn't rise to the bait. Simply rebukes, "Your book is blank and you're still shit."

"Asshole," you hiss and his dead eyed stare is replaced with a smirk.

.

.

As it happens, Gun can be very convincing when he wants to be.

A fellow student trails behind Gun in the library, and offers to help you and him out with your lack of mathematical comprehension.

You ignore that the student seems absolutely terrified and keeps giving fearful glances to Gun as he peers at them menacingly.

So what if the convincing involves some light threats of bodily harm or whatever Gun has so charmingly offered if that means you will pass. Didn’t you already establish that you have questionable morals? You’re too set in your ways and there's no point fighting it now.

Neither of you get any further after a few hours, and it doesn't help that the student gets more and more nervous each time you and Gun get a question wrong.

Explanations devolve into stammering and barely strung together sentences as if their life depends on you both understanding basic algebra.

They let out a petrified squeak when Gun snaps his fifth pen in half, noticing he has no more pens and may very well come for their neck.

Maybe he will.

"Leave." Gun commands, pinching his nose bridge when he realises this is futile and the student scarpers off.

"I hate this," You say, dejected, and you watch Gun close his eyes and quietly count to ten.

.

.

As it happens, Gun can be very resourceful too when he wants to be.

The following week, the teacher trails behind Gun to the library and offers to help you both out.

He seems equally afraid, eyes flickering over to Gun, and you choose not to focus on that, instead smiling brightly at his kindness.

The teacher, gripping the textbook white knuckled, breathes a sigh of relief hours later when both you and Gun start to answer the questions correctly and with accurate workings too.

In your mind, you have both learnt something and he has avoided an ass kicking so you're all winners here.

Nevermind the fact that Gun would have been the one handing out the ass kicking. There's no need to focus on such details.

.

.

From this distance, you find a figure chain smoking again. You’re now so familiar with his body language, with his mannerisms, that you know beyond a shadow of a doubt that it’s Gun and clearly there’s also something playing on his mind.

He sucks a cigarette down to the filter and lights up another one immediately after.

You worry about the poor state of his lungs and if he looks like this when he’s only 20, then mid-life will actually hit him hard. His body must be running on fumes. He really should cut down on the cigarettes and the caffeine and get a better night's sleep instead of staying up all night gaming. 

Not that you’re one to talk.

Perhaps it’s due to how he’s on alert for your presence like you are to him, his eyes snap to yours the moment you start to make your way over.

“You ok?” you ask and he gives you a funny look. It’s the same look whenever you express interest in his well being, or any general interest in him at all, and you think poor guy.

“Fine,” he responds, finishing off another cigarette and flicking it onto the floor.

And another thing, he really shouldn’t litter.

You don’t hesitate to tell him so, and as your tongue unravels, you start to also mention the smoking and his health and how you’re worried about him. Yes he clearly works out but all the cigarettes and lack of sleep will take a toll on him eventually.

Gun’s eyebrows climb into his hairline at your words. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you notice that what was supposed to come across as caring is very much coming across as a lecture though you can’t seem to stop.

As you begin to mention the obscene amount of gel he wears in his hair, his expression turns from bemused to sour and he cuts you off.

“You can nag me at mine over Tekken.”

“I’m not nagging-” you start, and then you abruptly stop as your brain kicks into gear and it sinks in that he has invited you over to his again.

Oh right. His.

The junkyard. 

At some point, you’ve forgotten that you’re in love with the King of Raccoons. That this guy willingly lives in a shack in the middle of, what you can only politely describe as, garbage, and you wonder how your life has come to this.

Gun is patient as he waits for your answer and his eyes are warm. It doesn’t sway you though. You want to counter with No. Why don’t you come to mine then you remember his beautiful bed. Yes you’re getting ahead of yourself but if there’s a chance you get to experience it again, sure. You will come to his raccoon den.

You agree and he gives you the softest smile you have ever seen.

.

.

“Shit,” you say, crestfallen and hanging limply.

“Shouldn’t you be used to losing by now?” comes Gun’s voice and you want to bounce the controller off his head.

“Shut up.”

“Your combinations are weak and poorly timed. You don’t understand how to use your characters or their advantages and you have no idea how to counter my moves.”

As the killing blow to your ego and pride, he adds, "You won that time because I let you."

A part of you already knew that yet you still stare at him agape at his audacity. Sitting, manspreading, on his armchair while he casually assassinates your skills.

“I’m not wrong.” He says with a smirk.

“Shut up,” you repeat, standing up.

“I can train you.”

“Shut up,” you stalk over to him.

“Or what?” He sits back to look up at you as you hover over him. Chin lifted defiantly and his eyes daring.

“This,” you snap, gripping him by the front of his shirt and pulling him towards you. You’re sick of losing and you’re sick of waiting. 

You clash your lips together and feel Gun exhale sharply in surprise at your actions. He tenses, for a split second, before he tugs you into his lap and your legs straddle his thighs. His hand reaches under your top, sliding their way across your skin as you grind down. 

“Wait,” he murmurs, pulling away, lips glossy and gazing at you half-lidded. 

He leans back to look at you properly, removing his hand as you subconsciously chase his touch, then with gentle hands, he cups your face and grazes his thumb over your cheek.

The TV screen illuminates his features, light reflecting in his eyes and you find something you only saw an inkling of during that first night, but has grown strong and steady since.

Gun looks at you like he did then -  soft, like you might break. Holds you the same way he had done - tender and precious. 

Only this time, there’s a steeled resolve in his face as he presses your bodies together, capturing your lips against his once more and you melt into his embrace. He’s much more gentle than you were but there’s a hunger and quiet desperation as his tongue swipes over your lips and slips in your mouth.

Your fingers run through his hair, and you’re pleasantly surprised to find it soft. All this time there wasn’t too much gel at all.

.

.

Gun wakes up the next morning with you drooling into his collar bone.

You wake up after the best night sleep of your life - wrapped in Gun’s arms and in the most comfortable bed known to man.

[hanluex]

♡ NO AIRPODS FOR YOU — RAFE CAMERON

bf!rafe x gn!reader | wc : 0.8k words | content : possible grammar and spelling mistakes, lowercase intended, established relationship, swearing, somewhat morbid threats, crack / comedy (?) | loki's lines — for the way i love this man, this drabble didn’t really include much of him 😭

“jj, i’m serious! you are always taking my things and leaving them everywhere!”

you grumbled in annoyance, tired of the blond troublemaker hijacking your items.

the two of you were having your daily banter outside the chateau, next to the hot tub, while the rest of the pogues and your boyfriend, rafe, sat on the patio, watching everything unfold.

“dude, calm the fuck down, jeez.” jj rolled his eyes, grabbing his bag off the tree stump next to him. “i literally didn’t take your airpods! i don’t have them! see!”

he turned his bag upside down over the hot tub, shaking it to show he had nothing inside.

you almost felt bad for blaming your missing airpods on jj when suddenly the small white box dropped from the bag, falling into the water.

“jj maybank!” you yelled out in shock, seeing the surprise on jj’s face as he quickly scrambled into the hot tub to retrieve your airpods that he happened to have. “you fucking asshole!”

john b, sarah, and pope stifled their laughter upon seeing what happened. while kie and rafe winced, knowing they were about to witness another showdown between you and jj.

“shit, shit!” jj grabbed your airpods from the hot tub floor, holding them up as water dripped out of it. “i really didn’t know it was in there, y/n. i swear! i wouldn’t have shaken it over the hot tub like that. i promise, i didn’t know.”

you narrowed your gaze at the blond, raising your finger angrily. “you better start running, maybank. because when i find you, i swear on my life, i will fucking skin you alive and feed you to the magpies alive so you can—” a surprised gasp left your lips as you were lifted off your feet.

as soon as you started threatening jj, rafe walked towards you, somewhat fearing for the blond’s life as he knew of your abilities to scare a person shitless with just your words.

without another word, rafe simply wrapped his arms around your hips and picked you up, throwing you over his shoulder as he walked you towards the chateau.

“we’ve talked about this before, darlin’.” he drawled. “you shouldn’t use that pretty mouth of yours to say such morbid shit.”

he sat you down on the patio, arms crossing over his chest as he looked at you. sarah and kie smiled teasingly as they made eye contact with you, knowing that all this was routine at this point.

john b and pope simply shook their heads, walking towards jj, who still stood in the middle of the hot tub, completely stunned by your threats — no matter how many different variations of them he heard.

“but you really can’t blame me!” you grumbled under your breath, avoiding eye contact with your boyfriend. “he’s the one who just dropped my airpods in water! if i could, i would burn him at stake and—”

“i’ll buy you new airpods.” rafe interjected, an amused look on his face. “only if you promise to never let another morbid threat ever leave your pretty lips. ‘kay, sweetheart?”

your eyes gleamed with excitement at getting new airpods. “i promise! not a single threat will ever escape me. i’m a new person now. threats are not my thing anymore, i solemnly swear.” you raised a hand as if you were taking an oath.

sarah and kie couldn’t help but burst out laughing at your antics, shaking their heads as they watched you become complete putty in rafe’s hands with just a few words.

just as you took a deep breath, about to let go of your old self, jj threw your airpod case at you, a teasing grin on his face as he noted the smile on your face.

this blondie really couldn’t stand seeing your smile.

“you dipshit! i swear, test me one more time and i swear i will kick–” you froze upon seeing rafe’s raised brows, an amused look in his eyes as if he challenged you to continue your sentence. “–away your worries and shower you with love because you are my bestest friend in the entire world.”

rafe snorted at your quick thinking. “great save, darlin’. i almost thought you were gonna break your promise there for a second, you know?” he smirked.

“as if i’d let jj ruin my only chance of getting new airpods.” you scoffed in disbelief and shook your head confidently. “because if that happened, i’d pop his eyes out of his head and make him eat them.”

the realization hit you as soon as the words left your lips, cursing under your breath. you covered your face with your hands, groaning in regret at your stupidity.

rafe bit back a laugh, nodding to himself. from the moment he made you make that promise, he knew it wouldn’t be long until you broke it.

“and … you broke your promise. great job holding back for the last three minutes. also, just so you know, no airpods for you.”

taglist : @maverick-wingman @loving-and-dreaming (to be added, please send a dm or ask!)

[dcdreamblog]

What are your opinions on the Justice League International? They were a controversial time for the League for sure, a lot of news outlets around here, red state, you understand, called them a 'joke' and 'an embarrassment on the good name of the League,' but they were heroes, if you ask me.

Any red state dipshit who wanted to say that about the JLI would have to then meet me in the parking lot after I smacked my work gloves across his face.

(The most iconic image of the JLI, the day they received their official charter from the United Nations. TIME Magazine.)

The "Justice League Detroit" (A name I put in quotes because it IS meant to be pejorative in its original context, though the surviving members of that team wear it with pride ) had disbanded after a violent clash with Anthony Ivo left several of its members dead around the same time that G Gordon Godfrey was first able to whip up a popular discontent around superheroes.

This, of course, lead to the famous "Battle of the Lincoln Memorial" where a group of heroes defeated Godfrey and stymied the plans of his ultimate master, Darkseid. Bringing together a new team with the realization the world always needed a Justice League.

The team would handle various crises until the came into the interest of billionaire philanthropist Maxwell Lord who approached them with an idea: Seek official UN sanction, granting greater resources in exchange for government oversight. This period is when the most iconic lineup joined the team more or less, including the American mandated Captain Atom, his Russian counterpart Rocket Red with personable duo Blue Beetle and Booster Gold.

The First thing that caused an international backlash was the WAY the UN sanction was secured, namely that it was a TRANSFER of the Global Guardians' sanction to the League which was WIDELY unpopular in the majority of the world, especially among the Nonaligned Nations. The Global Guardians were and are deeply respected in the areas where they are active and cutting them out in order to replace them with a line up of the Justice League was seen by many smaller nations as America muscling in on the international stage.

This international outcry was somewhat quieted by the addition of popular Brazilian and Norwegian heroines Fire and Ice to the group and the mandated acceptance of Russia's Rocket Red. Though concerns remained that its claim to an international organization was hollow due to its majority American membership in contrast to the truly global commitment of the Global Guardians, worries I sympathize and agree with to a degree.

The OTHER "problem" many had with the team was with its general bearing and membership. The League was at that time, and still often is, thought of in terms of "The Seven", its most famous and prominent members with other heroes playing a peripheral role in the eyes of the public. With Batman very swiftly bowing out once media attention glued itself to the team, the only member of that chosen few that remained was the Martian Manhunter who is often disregarded by a certain...kind of observer. This lead to a perception that the JLI wasn't the "real" Justice League despite the total confidence placed in the JLI by personages like Superman or Wonder Woman.

It also got itself involved in rather less serious matters and conducted itself in a sometimes less than proud manner, mostly due to the public debacles that Blue Beetle and Booster Gold became wrapped up in. But I've already made a post about my thoughts on both men and why I think both are deserving of respect.

My evidence is as it shall ever be.

If you are slightly older than me you probably clearly remember when an alien alliance lead by a race calling themselves THE DOMINATORS tried to conquer the Earth via military force of arms. Which team was at the forefront of the counter attack that saved all our lives? The JLI.

Who stopped the illegal Bialyan junta under "Queen Bee" from gaining a superweapon? The JLI.

Who pushed back the intergalactic despot Despero to such a degree that he STILL thinks that these are Earth's greatest champions? The JLI. I would dare ANYONE who would like to question their legacy to stand in their shoes and still see if their big mouth avails them.

[shakespeareanwannabe]

As You Wish, Chapter 6

Summary: When arriving at Camp Silver Star, Abby Floyd was anticipating a summer of adventure with an ocean separating her from the three people she loved most: her mom, her Uncle Bob and her Aunt Natasha. But after a run in with Charlie Seresin, an extremely familiar looking and irritating camper in a different cabin, her summer plans take a turn that neither girl ever could have expected.

Potential Trigger Warnings: reader's children are described as being blond with green eyes because genetics are wild and Jake's genes are strong, reader is canonically Bob's sister (but biological relation is never discussed), reader goes by Buttercup and is tattooed, angst, sadness, reference to divorce, kids doing sneaky things, references to babies, swearing, references to the hospital

Sharp Memorial Hospital, almost 12 years ago

The skies were painted shades of lilac and rose, golden hues dancing just above the horizon as the sun played peekaboo with the clouds, not quite willing to give up the daylight just yet. Jake watched through the small window in the private hospital room, two small, warm weights resting against his bare chest. His wife of less than a year slept soundly in the uncomfortable hospital bed next to him.

Bob and Natasha had left a few hours before to get dinner, the WSO arriving the second he was invited to meet his new nieces, his partner following close behind. The two were never far from each other, and Jake knew that they preferred it that way.

“Knock, knock…”

Jake looked up and immediately rolled his eyes. Under his arms, Javy had two massive teddy bears, one pink and one purple. Behind him, Rooster stood with a bundle of balloons, looking like he’d rather be holding anything else.

“Hey fellas,” Jake whispered.

“Jesus, Hangman, don’t you ever put on a shirt?” Rooster scoffed playfully.

“It’s called skin to skin contact, dipshit. It’s supposed to be good for them,” he retorted, shifting Abby (or was it Charlie?) in his arms as she cooed softly.

“Easy with the language there, papa bear,” Javy laughed, depositing the two bears beside the side table and moving to stand behind Jake’s chair. “You’re gonna have to watch the swearing with these two little angels around.”

Jake chuckled softly. “Yeah, I know. Buttercup’s already given me sh—lip for it.”

“That’s why I love that girl,” Rooster nodded. “She knows how to keep Bagman in line.”

“Just for that, Javy gets to hold them first,” Jake cocked an eyebrow at his friend and rival.

“But there’s two of ‘em,” Rooster complained. “Why should I have to wait?”

“Because I’m his best friend? Because you can’t keep your mouth shut? Because I’m superior in every way?” Javy laughed, tugging the other chair in the room over and plopping down. “Alright, little ladies, come to Uncle Javy!”

“Better pick just one, or the Prodigal Son over there is gonna start pouting,” Jake smirked in Rooster’s direction, cradling his daughters closer when he flipped him off. “I can give you neither of them,” he reminded.

Rooster huffed. “Fine. Just gimme.”

Jake handed Charlie (it was definitely Charlie, he remembered now: Charlie was on his left side because her name has an L in it) over to Javy, who immediately started cooing at the infant as he cradled her head in his big hand.

“Hey there, girlie,” he whispered to the sleeping infant. “I’m your Uncle Javy, and we are gonna drive your old man nuts together. You just wait until you’re a little older and I’ll teach you all the different ways to make the vein in his forehead pop.”

“I regret everything,” Jake muttered, handing Abby over to Rooster. “Watch her head, man. Hold her like a football.”

“I know how to hold a baby, Bagman,” Rooster gripped, looking slightly awkward as he cradled the newborn.

“Coulda fooled me,” Jake returned, standing with a groan and pulling his shirt on. “Don’t hold her like you’re afraid of her, dumbass.”

“Dude, she’s like…fresh,” Rooster grumbled, tucking Abby a little closer to his body. “I’ve never held anything this new before.”

“You get used to it,” a quiet voice yawned behind them.

“Hey mama,” Jake grinned, swooping down to kiss his wife’s forehead. “How you feeling?”

Buttercup groaned and stretched, her joints popping. “Like I just went through 27 hours of labor and pushed two of your giant kids out of a 10-centimeter hole in my body?”

Javy shuddered. “A little graphic, Buttercup.”

“A little accurate, Coyote,” she shot back, leaning down to fiddle with the controls of her bed, raising herself higher. “Anyhow, its time for me to try feeding them again. And, before you ask, no. You’re not allowed to watch,” she glared playfully at Javy and Rooster.

“We have to go?” Javy pouted but handed Charlie back to Jake to deposit in his wife’s arms.

“Sorry, man,” Jake grinned. “But whatever she says, goes. I won’t be arguing with her for a long time after what she just went through.”

Buttercup smiled at him, exhaustion shining in her eyes as she accepted her daughter into her arms. “Thanks, baby,” she whispered. “Rooster? Can we get Abby back please?”

Jake turned to see Rooster standing stock still as he stared down at the sleeping baby. “Do…do I have to?” he whispered.

Jake chuckled. “Who woulda thought that it would only take my daughter to shut down Bradshaw’s attitude?”

Rooster shot him a glare as he handed Abby over to her father. “I’m with Javy…I’m gonna enjoy working with these two to turn that blond hair grey.”

“Sure, Rooster,” Jake laughed, cradling Abby to his chest as he waved them off. “Whatever you say.”

Clifton, Texas, Now

Bright sunlight streamed in through the small gap in the purple curtains, slicing across Abby’s face as she yawned and stretched before sitting up.

It took her a moment to remember where she was. The furniture in her bedroom was supposed to be walnut, not grey. Her window was certainly not east facing, and she did not have that many plaid shirts hanging in her closet. It was only when she heard Rooster’s heavy footsteps above her that she remembered. She was home, technically. Home in Texas, with her father and her uncles, as she had been for the past few days.

Abby’s cheeks ached as a wide smile tugged at her lips. The last few days had been so wonderful. Her dad was everything she ever could have dreamed and more. She’d spent the previous day just hanging out with him in the ranch office, eating sandwiches that Rooster had made for lunch and making each other laugh. The day before that, she’d tagged along with her dad to one of Javy’s football practices. She may not completely understand football yet, but she’d had a great time watching her dad and Javy coach the team of high school players. Every night, she hung out in the kitchen with Rooster, helping him make dinner and prep lunches for the ranch staff and the guests staying in the cabins. Each day had been better than the last, and she couldn’t wait to see how the rest of the week played out.

That day, she knew, would be the best day of all. Her dad had promised to take her out on a trail ride through the forest that bordered one side of the property. He had said that he had something important to talk to her about, and that phrase had sent her heart racing. She didn’t think that he knew about the swap (mostly because Charlie had reassured her in a late-night call that nothing about her dad’s behaviour seemed out of place), but she wondered if maybe he would tell her about her mom and sister. Maybe he was going to share the news that she and Charlie had been waiting to hear from their parents.

Anxious to hear whatever it was that her dad needed to talk to her about, Abby raced to get ready and made her way downstairs, only pausing when she heard an unfamiliar voice in the kitchen.

“But sugar…”

“I know, baby, I’m sorry. But I promised that I’d take Charlie out on a ride today, and I swear, I’m going to tell her today.”

“That’s what you said yesterday. And the day before that. And the day before that,” a high pitched, southern drawl responded, and Abby poked her head around the corner to sneak a peek at whoever was speaking. All she could see was her father, his hands cradling the hips of a tiny woman with bleach blond hair and painted on blue jeans.

“I know, baby,” Jake sighed. “I planned on telling her last night, but she passed out early. And I was definitely going to tell her about you the day before that, but Javy waylaid me and invited us to football practice. Rooster’s been keeping her busy in the kitchen after work too, so it’s been hard to get a moment alone with her.”

“Hard to get a moment alone with your own daughter? In your own house? On your own property?” The pout was clear in the woman’s voice.

“Savannah, don’t start,” Jake sighed again, removing his hands from her hips and turning. Abby pulled her head back around the corner before he could spot her. “You know that Rooster, Javy, and I own the place together. And she’s known them since she was born, so they’re as entitled to spend time with her as I am, especially when she wants to spend time with them.”

“I’m sorry, sugar. I’m just so excited for her to know.”

“I know, baby. Me too. I’ll tell her today, I promise.”

Abby poked her head back around the corner in time to see Jake kiss Savannah, and she felt her heart sink.

Turning on her heel, her feet pounded up the stairs and she launched herself onto her bed, scrambling for her cell phone.

A: Does dad have a girlfriend?

The answer came almost immediately.

C: LOL no he’s got no game

C: Why??? 👀

A: Because there’s a random blond lady hanging out in the kitchen and he’s calling her baby

C: You sure it’s him and not Rooster?

C: Uncle Roo has lots of hookups 🤢

A: Pretty sure I know what he looks like, thanks 🙄

C: You didn’t until a couple of weeks ago, smartypants

A: Thanks for the reminder

A: Are you sure he doesn’t have a girlfriend?

A: He wants to talk to me about something

A: What if it’s her?

A: Charlie?

C: Sorry, gotta go! Mom’s taking me to one of her book signings, and then we’re going to dinner and a show! Good luck!

Abby threw her phone onto the mattress and groaned, watching it bounce.

“Super helpful, sis…” she muttered, burying her head in her hands.

Her dad wanted to talk to her about something, and that something seemed to be a pretty, tiny woman with a grating voice. And, for all of Charlie’s reassurance, they had seemed pretty friendly and familiar with each other in the kitchen. The memory made her stomach churn.

What if he wanted to tell her that he was dating this Savannah lady? What would that do to their plan to make their parents see each other again? They had always known that their parents getting back together was a long shot, but they had hoped. And what if Savannah didn’t want her dad to change the current custody arrangement? What would they do then?

Abby felt her heart crack a little in her chest. She couldn’t imagine going back to the way things had been before, not now that she’d gotten a chance to love her dad and be loved by him in return. Not now that she’d gotten to cook with Rooster and coach with Javy and watch the three men barbecue while she swam in the pool. It was both fresh and familiar, terrifyingly new and heartwarmingly recognizable. She couldn’t go back to live in London, no matter how much she loved it, not when she knew that Seresin Ranch was waiting for her in Texas.

But what if her dad decided that he wanted Savannah more than he wanted her? It would be too much for her to bear.

Abby shook her head. No. That wouldn’t happen. No matter what happened, or why their mom decided to take her, and their dad decided to take Charlie, her dad loved her. She knew that as surely as she knew her own name. Once her dad found out that it was her, not Charlie, he’d want to make sure he saw them both an equal amount of time. He just had to.

A playful knock sounded against her door and her dad stuck his head inside.

“Hey, punk,” he grinned, the lines around his eyes and mouth deepening into crevices that spoke of a lifetime of joy. “You ready to go?”

She grinned back at him, the burden on her heart lifting instantly. Her dad loved her. If she was sure of anything at all, it was of that.

“Yeah, dad. I’m ready.”

Her backpack weighed down with sandwiches, apples, carrots, and enough water to feed a small army, Abby trekked into the stable, where Charlie’s paint mare, Lovebug, was standing, already tacked up. Her dad’s horse, a large grey gelding named Firewall, stood behind her as Jake finished cinching up his saddle.

“Hey, Charlie-girl, you all ready?” he called out, patting Firewall’s flank.

“Yeah, dad. Just give me a second!”

“More than a second, you two,” Rooster called, strolling in behind her. “Dude, there’s an issue with the AC unit in cabin 5. You want me to handle it like normal?”

“Cabin 5? You mean the same cabin that’s been giving us holy hell since they got here?”

Rooster nodded, a large hand reaching out to ruffle her braided hair as he passed her. “That’s the one.”

Jake sighed and rubbed at his forehead under the brim of his white cowboy hat. “Nah, shoot Toni a text and let her know to head in there and double check it. If there’s no issue, she can read them the riot act about wasting our time.”

Rooster grinned. “I wish I could be a fly on the wall for that conversation.”

Abby tuned out their conversation as she slowly approached Lovebug. According to Charlie, the mare was an easy ride, but loyal as all get out to Charlie, never allowing anyone else to mount her. Charlie had gotten her as a gift for her fifth birthday and the mare hadn’t allowed another rider since. Hopefully she looked and smelled enough like Charlie to be able to fool the mare.

“Hey Lovey…” Abby murmured; her eyes lowered as she held one hand out for the mare to sniff. “Easy girl…please let this work…”

The mare’s eyes widened, and her nostrils flared as she anxiously pawed at the soft stable floors and whinnied, tossing her head back and retreating as far as she could, almost bumping Firewall.

“Whoa!”

“What the hell?”

Jake grabbed Firewall’s reins as he surged backwards to grab Firewall’s reins before he could retreat too far. Rooster leapt forward to grab Lovebug’s reins, easing her head down and petting her muzzle gently.

“Charlie, are you okay?” Jake called, clipping Firewall onto a long lead attached to the wall so he wouldn’t wander.

“Y-yeah…I’m okay,” Abby replied softly as her heart sank. She’d known that tricking Charlie’s horse was going to be one of the more difficult parts of their plan, but she’d never thought that the horse would react like that to her. If she couldn’t get Lovebug on her side, their plan was as good as done.

Rooster clipped Lovebug onto the wall and stared between horse and would-be rider curiously. “I’ve never seen her react to you that way before, kid. Anyone else, sure. But not you.”

“M-maybe she smells Champ on me,” she offered weakly, remembering how Charlie had taken a shine to the palomino at camp. “I…I don’t think I’ve washed this shirt since coming back from camp.”

Jake approached, cautiously patting Lovebug on her withers as he passed her. “Could be. Six weeks is also a long time for her not to see you. Maybe she’s trying to readjust. She’s always been a sensitive horse. Here…let’s try again.”

Calmly, Jake took Abby’s hand in his and slowly approached the mare, extending their hands for her to smell. Cramming her other hand in her pocket, Abby anxiously crossed her fingers and held her breath.

With a twitch and a nervous tapping on the floor, Lovebug extended her graceful neck and sniffed the tips of Abby’s fingers. After a tense minute, Lovebug released a long, almost weary sigh and nibbled on Abby’s fingertips with her velvety lips.

“There,” Jake said happily, releasing Abby after gently squeezing her shoulder. “She just needed a minute to forgive you for leaving her for six weeks.”

“Yeah…” Rooster murmured, staring at Abby and Lovebug with a piercing gaze. “I guess that’s it.”

“Thanks for the assist, Rooster,” Jake called over his shoulder, unclipping Firewall and leading him out into the bright sunlight. “We’ll see you around noon, alright?”

“Bye Uncle Roo,” Abby waved timidly, all too aware of the way his heavy gaze rested on her.

The green grass swayed in the cool summer breeze as the horses strolled among the trees, birds singing a sweet song as they flitted from branch to branch.

Everything was perfect…or it would have been if not for the burden on Abby’s mind. The image of her dad kissing that blond lady was running through her mind on a loop, burning itself behind her retinas, churning the scarce remains of her breakfast in her stomach.

“You okay over there, Charlie girl?”

Abby glanced quickly at her dad before turning her eyes back down to the pommel of her saddle. She’d been grateful that the trail was wide enough to ride side by side when they’d set out, but now she was wishing that it was narrower.

“Yeah,” she sighed quietly. “Why?”

“You’re never this quiet on a trail ride. Usually, you’re talking my ear off about something or another. That’s kinda why I wanted to go on this ride with you. Rooster and Javy have kind of been monopolizing your time since you got back from camp. I wanted some daddy-daughter time before you go back to school and realize how uncool your old man is.”

“I thought you said you were always cool,” she sniffed.

“Oh, I am,” Jake grinned at her. “I’m very cool. But 12-year-old girls don’t always recognize that.”

“I’m not 12 yet,” she mumbled.

“Trust me, I know and I’m very grateful for that. You turning 12…” Jake sighed. “I can feel the grey hair popping up.”

When she didn’t laugh at his joke, they lapsed into silence. All that had happened that morning had left a sour taste in her mouth and, try as she might, she couldn’t seem to shake it.

It’s not that she didn’t want her dad to be happy. She did, just like she’d always wanted her mom to be happy. But she couldn’t help feeling like she’d just gotten her dad back, that her dad owed it to her and Charlie to give their mom a chance. They deserved to be a family, especially after the almost 12 years of not even knowing about the very existence of the other half of their family.

“Do you remember the day I was born?” she asked suddenly, looking over at him.

“Of course I do, darlin’. Hard to forget the best day of my life.”

“Then you remember my mom?”

Jake reined Firewall in sharply, urging his horse to a stop as he stared at her. “Charlie, of course I do. Where is this coming from?”

“You never talk about her,” she replied simply. “I’m almost 12, dad. I think I deserve to know about the woman who gave birth to me.” She watched as his Adam’s apple worked in his throat, his eyes skimming over the terrain, the sky, anywhere but over in her direction. “What, was she not a good person? A one-night stand? What?” she pushed, knowing none of it was true but the image of Savannah dancing in her mind was turning her anxiousness into anger.

“Charlie, your mom…” Jake sighed, his free hand rubbing at his eyes under the brim of his Stetson as he lapsed back into silence. Abby clenched the reins in her hand tightly as the silence dragged on, but she refused to push. Even though it had only been a few days, she knew Jake well enough to know that he would fight back when he felt cornered. It was the military man inside him, the pilot who knew how to stay on objective, and if his objective was to keep his daughter in the dark, Abby knew that not even God himself would be able to convince Jake to change directive.

After what felt like hours, she peeked over at her father to find him staring down at the reins in his hand as he chewed on the inside of his cheek. He looked…old. Now, Jake Seresin rarely looked his age; the deepening lines near his mouth and eyes, and the sparse sparkle of grey that decorated his thick hair and trim beard like tinsel being the only things that really gave the impression that Jake Seresin was anything other than eternally young. Charlie had shown her photos of her father in his flight suit, in his dress whites, in his khaki uniform, and the man in front of her looked like a shadow of that man. He wore no confident smile, no cocky raised eyebrow, no green eyes sparkling with a challenge. He just looked…sad, and Abby felt the last smoldering ashes of her anger sizzle out.

Reaching out carefully, she grabbed her dad’s wrist, and he looked up in surprise, like he’d forgotten she was there.

“Never mind,” she whispered. “I…I’m sorry.”

Before her eyes, her father transformed, building a cocky smile and heaving it into place. “Don’t be sorry, punk. You’re allowed to be interested in your mom. But right now, all you need to know is that she loved you something fierce and that things between me and her just…didn’t work out. Boring adult stuff that you don’t need to worry about, alright?”

Abby sighed. “Alright. Thanks, dad.”

And suddenly, he looked like he was on the right side of ageless again, flipping his grip to squeeze her hand. “Hey…I know I should tell you about her, and I promise I will eventually because you deserve to know. But for now, don’t worry about it, okay?”

“Okay. Thank you.”

He squeezed her hand once more before releasing it and urging Firewall forward, Lovebug following suit easily.

“There is something we do need to talk about though,” Jake added in a quiet voice as they crested the ridge they were climbing and came to a beautiful lookout, the ranch and all its grounds laid out below them.

Abby’s blood froze in her veins even as the sun shone down upon them, and the memory of the conversation in the kitchen hit her full force. Savannah had been pushing her dad to talk to her about something, something important, something that left a dark feeling in the pit of her stomach.

“I’ve been meaning to talk to you about it since you got home, but you’re a pretty popular kid around here.” Jake sighed. “Listen, Charlie girl, you know you’ll always be my girl, but…I mean, it happened pretty quickly, so it’s not like I meant to keep it from you…I just…”

Blinking against the harsh sunlight, Abby zeroed in on a truck just pulling into the ranch and the words flew out of her mouth before she could stop them.

“Uncle Javy’s back from practice! Race you to him!”

Before Jake could react, Abby kicked Lovebug into action and the mare surged forward, following the steadily declining path down the ridge back to the ranch.

“Charlie!”

She could hear the rapid hoofbeats of Firewall as he galloped after them, but she didn’t slow or turn to look where her father was. Ducking low on Lovebug’s neck, she urged the mare even faster, half wishing she could run her all the way back to London and her mother’s loving arms. She had been so deliriously happy the past few days, getting to know Seresin Ranch and the men who ran it, the men who were her family by birth. But now, with this Savannah person encroaching on her newfound happiness, she found that she missed her home more than ever. She wanted both worlds, Texas and London, her mom and her dad, and she didn’t want to share it with anyone but Charlie.

So, they ran, each hoofbeat bringing her closer and closer to the sanctuary she had come to call home.

After years of ranch living, Lovebug seemed to know the unwritten rules of the land and slowed to a canter, then a trot, and finally to a walk as they passed by the paddocks and came to a stop beside a red truck branded with the Seresin Ranch logo, Javy pulling a gym bag from the bed as they finally came to a stop.

“Whoa, girlie! Where’s the fire?” Javy exclaimed as she dismounted and bounced towards him, all too aware of the cantering hoofbeats following her.

“Nothing, Javy! How was practice? Do you need a hand with your bag? Do—”

“Charlotte Delta Seresin, what the hell was that?” Jake huffed as he hopped down from Firewall.

Abby felt herself flush. “I…I saw Javy, and—”

“I know, but I was trying to talk to you!” Jake sighed, handing Firewall’s reins to a ranch hand who had scurried out of the stable. “I’ve been trying to talk to you since you got home, but we keep getting interrupted. Baby, this is important.”

Javy groaned. “Jake, man, I told you that—”

“Coyote, all due respect, I’ve heard your opinion on the matter, but this is between me and my daughter,” Jake shot a look at his wingman, a look that clearly told Javy to stay out of it, but Javy refused.

“I know, man, but—”

“What on earth is goin’ on out here?” a sugary sweet voice called from the back door of the ranch house, and Abby watched as both her father and Javy bit back a groan.

“Can’t a man have five minutes of privacy around here?” she heard Jake mutter to himself before turning and pasting a wide smile onto his face. “Nothing, Savannah. I was just trying to talk to Charlie when she spotted Javy.”

“You mean you still haven’t talked to her?” Savannah pouted as she crossed the yard to stand a few feet away from them. “Sugar, you promised…”

Abby bit back a giggle as Javy rolled his eyes behind her back.

“Savannah, I know I promised, but this is a delicate situation and I want to ease my daughter into it.”

“Why is my kitchen a mess?” Rooster hollered, stomping across the yard to join the mini congregation that had now formed.

Jake rolled his head and groaned. “Five minutes…I swear, all I need is five minutes.”

“Oh, sorry, Brad,” Savannah smiled saccharinely at him. “I was just bakin’ a cake to celebrate my welcome into the family.”

“It’s Bradley. Brad-ley.”

“Savannah…” Jake hissed in warning, his eyes flashing.

“I’m sorry, Jakey, but I’m just so excited to be marrying you!”

In an instant, everything seemed to freeze. Abby could see her Javy moving, could see her father’s lips moving as he spoke to Savannah, but it all seemed to be in slow motion.

She had expected to learn about a relationship, to have her father come to her about the new girl he was seeing and discussing it with her. But marriage? Her stomach churned and her vision tunneled, red seeping in on the edges of the landscape. Sound returned with a roar, and she found her lips moving.

“Marrying you?” she was finally able to choke out. “You’re getting married?”

Jake sighed and turned his back on Savannah, who was still smiling despite the dressing down she had surely received from Jake.

“This isn’t how I wanted you to find out, but…yes. Savannah and I are getting married.” He reached a hand towards her with a bittersweet smile.

Every muscle in her body trembling, she stepped back from her father. “How could you?” she whispered.

Jake’s eyes slid closed, and he crouched down to her level. “Charlie, I know this will be an adjustment, but—”

“An adjustment?” she barked out a laugh. “You think that this is an adjustment? Springing some random woman on me and saying she’s going to be your wife?”

“And your stepmother, honey,” Savannah added, smiling brightly at her from over Jake’s shoulder.

“Like hell you will be!” she snapped, the slight British lilt to her natural voice almost slipping through the cracks. “You won’t even tell me about my real mom, but you think that you can just shove whatever woman looks your way into her spot in my life? That’s crap!” Abby dashed her eyes before stepping back again. “Is she even old enough to be my stepmom? Because she looks like she would’ve been a kid herself when I was born!”

Javy and Rooster both ducked their heads, their shoulders shaking slightly, but Abby could take no joy in their amusement, not with the betrayal stinging in her heart and the look on her father’s face.

“Charlotte Delta Seresin, I taught you better than to speak to me like that,” her father snapped, raising himself up to his full height and staring her down, shaking off Savannah’s hand as she tried to grab his arm.

“You didn’t—” Abby cut herself off before the rest of her sentence could escape. “You didn’t raise me at all.” That’s what she had wanted to say. This man, the man she had wanted to meet for her entire life, hadn’t raised her at all, either by accident or by design. He had left her and her mom behind, taken Charlie, and never looked back. It wasn’t fair. None of this was fair. “You didn’t think about me at all, dad,” she whispered, tears choking back any other words she may have wanted to share before she turned and fled, racing towards the stables.

Jake stepped forward, ready to chase after her, his heart sinking in his chest, but a firm hand on his shoulder stopped him.

“Just leave her be, man,” Rooster sighed, his eyes following his niece over the landscape. “She’ll come around.”

“Will she?” Javy scoffed. “Way to break the news, man.”

“I…I should talk to her,” Jake murmured, all too aware of Savannah retreating back into the house. “I should explain.”

“Let me talk to her first,” Rooster offered. ��Let me test the waters before you boil yourself alive.”

Running a hand over the back of his neck, Jake finally nodded. “Alright. Thanks, man.”

“Don’t thank me, man. Not yet.”

Abby huddled in the office in the stable, the door locked tight against her and the outside world. A wave of shame washed over her as she remembered how she had spoken to her father. She never spoke to any adult that way, her mum had taught her better. Her mum…

Abby’s heart clenched with homesickness. She ached for her mother’s arms to wrap around her, for the sound of her Uncle Bob’s laugh or Auntie Nat’s teasing.

She fumbled for her cell phone, tugging it clumsily out of her pocket before opening the little green app and dialing the now familiar long-distance number.

“Hello?”

“Dad’s getting married!” she nearly shouted down the receiver, despair coating every sound she uttered. “He got engaged to some blond woman who looks like she’s half his age!”

“Abby?” Charlie yawned. “What are you talking about?”

“I told you! The blond woman from this morning is wearing a rock the size of my head and hanging off of dad! She said that they’re getting married, and he confirmed it!”

“Wh…what? No! It…it’s not possible!”

“Except that it is! He told me it was happening whether I liked it or not!” Silence greeted her claim, and she felt that red hot rage start to creep in again. “Would you say something, please?”

“What do you want me to say, Abby?” Charlie whispered, and Abby could hear the tears in her voice. “Dad’s getting married, and he didn’t bother to even introduce her to me.”

Abby sighed, the anger dissipating as quickly as it came on. “I know…”

“But he loves mom!” Charlie groaned. “I know he does! You don’t shut down that often about a person if you don’t care about them!”

“He shut down on me today too,” Abby agreed. “But it’s not like I can just tell him that he loves her. He would never go for that.”

“Can you find something to prove it?” Charlie’s desperation was clear. “Something to remind him?”

“Like what?”

“I dunno…a photo? Their marriage license? Anything that might remind him of her?”

“Where would I even find something like that?”

“In the office in the stable.”

Abby looked around. “I’m there right now, I don’t see anything.”

“In the safe under his desk. Or in the filing cabinet. I don’t know the code to the safe or where he keeps the key to the cabinet though.”

Abby sighed. “I’ll figure it out. I’ll let you know what I find.”

“Thanks…I’m sorry you have to deal with that while I’m having fun with mum.”

“It’s okay. Do…do you think mum still loves dad?”

“Abby, all her adult books are about a military guy falling in love with the woman of his dreams and the obstacles that keep them apart.” Abby could practically hear the eye roll in her sister’s voice. “She either loves him or she doesn’t know what else to write about.”

“What if you’re wrong?”

“I…I don’t want to think about that. Find proof. I’ll find proof too. Then we’ll tell them about the switch.”

“Okay.”

“Okay. Good luck.”

“You too,” Abby hung up the phone with a sigh before turning to face the little black safe that was tucked under her father’s desk.

“Alright, you…what could your combination be?”

She cycled through the obvious choices first: Jake’s birthday, her and Charlie’s birthday, her father’s military employee number, her great-grandfather’s number. With a wish in her heart, she even tried her mother’s birthday, but no such luck. So, she tried less obvious combinations. Javy’s birthday was a no-go, as was Rooster’s. Her grandmother and grandfather were also a bust. And it turned out that Jake Seresin was not the type of guy to use 1-2-3-4-5-6 as his combination.

“C’mon…c’mon, what are you?” Abby grumbled.

“Try 02-14-19.”

The sudden voice made her shriek and lurch away from the safe, turning to see her uncle chuckling from the doorway.

“Uncle Roo…you frightened me!”

“I frightened you, huh?” He sauntered forward, kicking the door shut behind him. “See, two months ago you would have said ‘You scared the crap out of me’ or ‘I’m gonna get you back for that, Chicken!’ Not, you frightened me.” He perched himself on the edge of the desk. “My girl Charlie doesn’t talk like that. She knows the words, smart as a whip that kid is, but being around a bunch of air jockeys on a ranch didn’t exactly lend itself to 20-point words like frighten.”

She felt the blood rush to her cheeks. “W-what do you mean? I’m Charlie. Did you hit your head or something?”

“See, now that is something Charlie would say. You almost had me. But Lovebug doesn’t shy away from Charlie. Never has, never will. And Javy could almost make Charlie an assistant coach with how much she helps him out with his playbook…but not you. You don’t seem to know the first thing about football.” He fixed her with a stern look. “You’re not Charlie…are you, Abby?”

The dam inside her—the one that had been holding back all her fears and anger about her father’s surprise engagement, and the ache of her homesickness—broke and the tears burst forth. Quickly, she buried her face in her hands and sobbed.

She heard a heavy sigh before she was wrapped in a hug, strong arms pulling her against a lean body.

“S’alright, kid. I’m not gonna tell anyone.”

She pulled back slightly, trying to meet Rooster’s eyes but he kept them firmly on the ceiling. “R-really?”

He shrugged. “I figure you and Charlie have your reasons for this insane switch. Where the hell did you two meet, anyway?”

“Camp…” she hiccupped. “P-Penny invited both of us at the same time.”

Rooster sighed, but there was the slight twang of a chuckle hidden inside it. “Yeah, that sounds like Penny. She was pretty pushy about me mentioning the camp to your dad. Shoulda known she was pulling a Maverick level stunt.”

“Y-you’re not mad?”

“Nah…” he shrugged, releasing her and sitting back on the edge of the desk again while Abby straightened in the desk chair. “Just, tell me one thing. Is Charlie okay?”

Abby nodded. “She’s in London with my mum, Uncle Bob and Auntie Nat. She’s having a grand time.”

Rooster nodded thoughtfully. “So, what is the plan?”

Abby bit her lip. “Get to know our other parent, tell them about the switch at the end of the week, force them to meet to switch us back, and have them fall in love with each other again so that we don’t have to live with an ocean in between us again?”

Rooster sighed; his eyes drifting shut as his head rolled back. “Jesus…”

“Are…are you going to tell dad?”

She held her breath as his eyes opened again, this time turning to her with a fixed determination that sent a shiver down her spine.

“No…I’m not.”

“Really? But…why?”

Rooster shrugged. “One, because making your dad’s life a living hell is still one of the greatest pleasures of my life. Two, I always thought that the way your parents handled the divorce was wrong. Hell, I think they never should have gotten divorced at all. And three, Savannah pisses me off and I don’t think I’ll be able to keep living here if your dad actually goes through with it.”

“So…what does that mean for me?”

“It means, I’m gonna help you. And so will Javy.”

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[hellfirenacht]

Wing Man Part 6

Fic Summary: Steve 'the Hair' Harrington is your best friend, and is constantly striking out. Sick of this, you two make a deal; you'll wing man for each other. Hooking Steve up with dates is easy, but he finds himself struggling to find you a date. At least, until Dustin starts talking about his new cool friend Eddie. (1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9)

Chapter Summary: What DID he mean by five? The second meeting.

5.1k words

A/N: How are we feeling in a post-"Flight of Icarus" world, y'all? I knew from the beginning that I'd want to add some of the lore in and let me tell you, I LOVE Ronnie Ecker. For those of you who did not read the book, or haven't had a chance to, Ronnie is Eddie's best friend who ended up with a full scholarship to NYU. They're siblings, your honor.

Also if anyone can show me on this map where the plot is going, I'd really appreciate it.

This late at night, the only sounds in the trailer park came from the occasional dog barking and the echoes of Eddie’s tapes blasting as he pulled up to Wayne’s trailer. His uncle was working tonight as usual, which would normally allow Eddie time to hog the tv before passing out for a few precious hours before he had to get up for school. 

Tonight however, his mind was buzzing with what had just happened less than an hour ago. He liked you, he wasn’t sure how much yet but he did. You were sharp and knew your stuff about metal. It helped that you were cute. Really cute. 

He liked seeing you in the passenger seat of his car, matching wits with his friends and ranting about Ozzy. He liked seeing you laughing and the way you watched him play. He really liked the way you had fiddled with the pick he’d thrown at you at the end of the set. 

Eddie had never done that before. He’d wanted to, but never had anyone’s attention like that before- no. That wasn’t true. There had been one other person who’d listened to him play like that, two years ago. 

Was he always gonna fold to the site of a pretty girl actually paying attention to his music? 

“Of course you are.” Ronnie’s voice echoed on the phone. “And I’m gonna laugh every time you do.” 

Eddie groaned, holding the receiver to his ear as his forehead pressed against the front of the fridge. He hadn’t planned on running to her with this, but he was nowhere near able to wind down. He hadn’t even expected Ronnie to pick up the phone this late at night with the time zone difference and the fact that it was a school night. He’d have to push his stash a bit harder to pay Wayne back for the long distance call. 

The past two years had been a slow crawl of building back trust up with Veronica Ecker. The two had gone almost a whole summer without talking before Eddie had basically groveled for forgiveness outside of Granny Ecker’s trailer before Ronnie left for New York. She had forgiven him enough to let him give her a ride to the airport. 

“Last time?” He’d asked. 

“Last time.” She’d repeated. 

“So why didn’t you shack up with her tonight?” Ronnie asked. “You got her into your van, and you dropped her off like a gentleman.” 

“I don’t know, I panicked.” Eddie sighed, bonking his head against the fridge a few times. “She was right there, and she was leaning in and all I saw was Paige leaning in-”

“You know not every girl who shares your taste in music is Paige, right?” Eddie could practically see Ronnie rolling her eyes on the other end of the line. 

“Any girl that shares my taste in music ends up fucking off to the opposite end of the country.” 

This made Ronnie laugh. “You’re an idiot. Paige fucked off back to her job and I fucked off to college.”

“Fucking off is fucking off.”

“Maybe you need to fuck off.”

“I tried, remember?” 

She remembered. Both of them remembered. 

“Look, stop being a dipshit.” Ronnie said after a moment of awkward silence. “You’re graduating this year, right?”

“Uhhh...”

“Eddie.”

“Yeah, yeah I’m working on it. I just need those last stupid two classes and then I’m home free.” Eddie confirmed. 

“You can’t stay in high school forever.” Ronnie said. “And you’re gonna realize that there’s life outside of Hawkins. Have you even talked to Paige since then?”

He hadn’t, and they both knew it. Eddie gave up two months after she’d bailed him out of jail. Two months of dead air silence. He got the hint. 

“No.”

“Then stop worrying about one girl from over two years ago!” Eddie could feel the phantom pain of Ronnie punching him in the arm like she always used to. “Get laid and graduate, Munson. You earned it.”

Eddie snorted, sliding down the fridge to sit on the cool floor. “Is that the only advice you got for me, Ecker?”

“It’s the only advice you need. Did you pass that test last week?” Ronnie asked. 

“By the skin of my teeth.” Eddie sighed, leaning his head back against the fridge. 

“Your new girl graduated, maybe she can help you study.”

“She’s not my girl. She’s a girl that I’ve met a handful of times-”

“That’s turning your brain to mush.” 

“She doesn’t even know who I am, Ronnie.” He fiddled with the chord in his hand, watching the spiral wind and unwind around his fingers. It was already stretched out pretty bad, with a few spirals already tangled beyond repair like his old slinky from when he was a kid. 

“Isn’t that a good thing?” Ronnie asked. “She doesn’t know you, that means she doesn’t feed into the bullshit of the rumor mill.” 

Ronnie had a point and he hated it, but that’s why he called her to begin with. Ronnie was the only person who could cut through his Munson bullshit and give it to him straight. He missed it. As much as he enjoyed the power he had to protect his little lost sheepies, they were all too intimidated to actually stand up to him and call him out the way that Ronnie would.

“Yeah, you’re right. As usual.” Eddie could hear her snort and he couldn’t stop himself from grinning. “So why the hell are you even awake right now? Up til 2 am on a school night, Ecker?”

“It’s barely past midnight, the time zone isn’t that off. I was studying for a test, but hearing you complain about your love life is a far more productive use of my time.” 

“You’re using me to slack off, aren’t you?” 

“If I have to look at my flashcards one more time tonight my eyes are gonna go square. How’s Granny doing?”

“She’s an empty nester and is determined to turn me into her replacement grandson until you visit again.” Eddie shook his head. “She threatened to give me a haircut the last time she dropped off a plate for Wayne.”

Ronnie had come back to visit a grand total of five times since she’d left, returning for holidays and summers to visit Granny Ecker and by extension Eddie. Each time she’d come back with stories of law school and how different New York is. 

It seemed impossible, everything that Ronnie had told him about going to college and about life outside their small town. She was playing Dungeons and Dragons still, having found a group that would play with her. According to her, being a rules lawyer for the game at a law school hit way different than it had their small Hellfire group in high school. No one even cared that they played outside of a few students who had better things to do than enact violence against a few nerds. 

Then again, in law school everyone was some sort of nerd. Eddie wondered if even a freak would be accepted there. Well, socially at least. He wasn’t delusional enough to think he’d be able to be accepted into law school with his grades. Ronnie had invited him up to visit a few times, but there was never time or money to do it. 

The two continued talking for another hour, catching up until Ronnie was scolding him for staying up so late on a school night. 

“Yeah? And what’s your excuse?” Eddie said. “It’s almost 4:20 am there.” 

“Ha. Ha. Again, ha.” Ronnie said. “Still not how timezones work. And my first class doesn’t start until noon.”

Right. In college you didn’t have to wake up at the ass crack of dawn every day. 

“Night, Ecker.”

“Night, Munson. Graduate and get laid.” 

“Does it matter the order?”

“Good night, Eddie.”

Talking to Ronnie had eased his nerves, but there was still something inside that wouldn’t let him lay down and go to sleep. It was late now, way later than he intended to stay up tonight. The night he played at the Hideout always had him up late, and his teacher already considered him more useless than usual on Wednesdays. It’s not like anyone would care if he slept in class, unless they were in a particularly foul mood. 

He made his way to a stack of books in his room rummaging through a pile or two until he found what he was looking for. Eddie’s copy of Lord of the RIngs was well loved at best, and completely trashed at worst. The cover of the paperback was nearly torn off, taped back together haphazardly over the years. Pages were dogeared, the spine was cracked, notes were scribbled in the margins, and his name was scribbled in messy cursive on the front page declaring that this book belonged to Eddie Munson and that he was in third grade.

Eddie stripped out of most of his clothes, tossing his jewelry on his nightstand, and hopped into bed. He turned on a small lamp and opened the book. He could probably recite the first chapter from memory if he tried, the words on the page a comfortable lullabye for his wound up mind. But tonight he flipped to a page near the end where his bookmark was. The flower made out of blue construction paper wasn’t nearly as old as the book, and only in better shape because it never left the safe pages of Tolkein’s writing. 

His eyes glanced at his arm again, your phone number a temporary tattoo on his skin until it washed off. Shit, it was going to wash off eventually. Eddie grabbed a pen from under his bed and added another scribble to the inside of the book before copying your number carefully onto the paper flower. At least this way he’d always know where it was. 

With that aside, Eddie didn’t make it through three pages of his book before he passed out with the light still on. 

Fall Semester, 1984

The PrinciPAL’s office was just as interesting and inviting as it always was, which is to say not at all. Eddie was slumped back on a chair, watching as Janice sorted through paperwork, pretending to look busy so that she could avoid any small talk with ‘that Munson boy’. He had been waiting for Higgin’s to show up for almost fifteen minutes now, because why shouldn’t he waste Eddie’s time at this point? The worst that was going to happen today is that they’d do their little song and dance, Eddie would plead his case that the flyers were absolutely serious and that Chris Morrison had every intent to run for student council, and that it was all of the club that had made the posters, Higgins would shake his head and not believe Eddie for a second (which to be fair, this would be the first time that Eddie would admit privately that it was his fault), they’d go back and forth until Eddie got some form of detention or Saturday school. 

Honestly, the worst part would be rescheduling Hellfire if he wound up in detention. 

Eddie had counted out 13 paper clips that Janice had used in her papershifting before the door to the front office opened up again. He looked up, expecting to see Higgins walk in, ignore him for another five minutes, before Janice would let Eddie go in. 

He didn’t expect to see you, pale and shaken, clutching a teacher’s note in your hand. Eddie watched as you handed the note over to Janice who read it, shook her head, and pointed at the chair next to himself. Your eyes never left the floor as you sat next to him, staring at the cheap carpet as if you could somehow burn a hole in it and disappear. 

Trouble was no stranger to Eddie, and Eddie was no stranger to trouble. In Hawkins the name ‘Munson’ might as well be in the thesaurus next to the word. This wasn’t his first rodeo, and it would be far from his last as long as Higgins stayed the princiPAL. He’d walk away with a lecture and a sigh and then it would be business as normal. 

The look on your face though, that was far from the mild annoyance he felt. You look downright traumatized at the idea of having been sent here. Eddie glanced up at Janice who deigned to make eye contact with him now. Her eyes flicked between the two of you, a disapproving look behind her purple frames as if this was somehow Eddie’s fault that you had ended up here as well. But then, as far as any of the faculty from the office was concerned, even him being enrolled at this school was a death sentence to the rest of the poor student body. Eddie was a disease that they would try to contain until they had the cure to remove him. 

The shaking of your knee made your chair (and his chair by proxy) rattle slightly. The quiet of the office and the mundane shuffling of Janice’s papers only added to the tension that was radiating off you. 

“Janice, is Higgin’s gonna be long?” Eddie finally asked, and your bouncing knee stopped for just a moment before going back to its nervous movement. 

“He’s in a very important meeting.” Came the reply over a stack of papers, still not looking at Eddie. 

He sighed again and looked over at you, trying to place where he knew your face. Your eyes were a bit red, and you looked like you were on the verge of crying. Shit, he needed to do something before he had to ask Janice for the tissue box. 

“First time?” Eddie asked, and when you didn’t respond he nudged your knee with his. 

You jumped slightly, head snapping up. It was a wonder you didn’t give yourself whiplash and it would have been almost funny to Eddie had you not looked like a deer in the headlights looking at him. 

“I... Huh?” your voice cracked slightly. 

“What are ya in for?” Eddie did his best to give you a smile which he was sure made him look more like a serial killer than a comfort. It was rare he wished that he had his dad’s smile, but in cases like this he’d make an exception. 

You looked at the paper in your hand and swallowed. “Uh... skipped.” 

“Skipped school or just class?” Eddie prompted, trying to get you to talk more. If you were talking, then you weren’t crying. That’s what he hoped at least. 

“Class.” He didn’t think you’d say anymore but you surprised him. “US History.” Eddie caught the way your eyes darted to Janice again as if to make sure she wasn’t listening in, but Janice had better things to do than to eavesdrop on two delinquents. “I wasn’t... I had a bad day. I'm having a bad day. I felt like I was going to explode and I went to the library.” 

Eddie nodded, wondering what had happened today that made you need to duck out. It wasn’t his business, and frankly Higgin’s was going to grill you enough as it was. 

“Rookie mistake.” He said instead. 

“Rookie...?” 

Eddie kept his voice low and leaned in closer to you as if telling you a secret. “If you’re gonna skip, you can’t go to the library. You might as well have walked into the teacher’s lounge and announced that you were cutting class.”

You let out a sharp breath that he swore counted for a laugh. “Thanks for the heads up, can you tell me that a few hours ago?”

There was color returning to your face now and Eddie kept going. His brown eyes scanned your face, trying to place where he knew you from. Hawkins was a small town, and there was nothing about you that screamed ‘I’m new!’. 

He liked your sarcasm though, and his ‘comforting’ grin shifted into a genuine smile. “If you’re gonna ditch, you need to go to the bathroom or go outside.” He said. “Especially for last period. Go hide outside in the woods and you can slip into the parking lot seamlessly without anyone noticing. By the end of the day the teachers are barely taking attendance anyway.”

“Have you been in the girls rooms here?” you asked, shaking your head. “I think I’d rather take my chances here than stay in there longer than I’d have to.” Eddie wasn’t sure if you were trying to make a joke or if you were serious.

“Would you rather hide in the boys room?” he asked. “I swear it only smells like piss almost all of the time and you’d end up in the splash zone even if you were in a stall.”

That got a laugh out of you, a genuine one. Your shoulders were relaxing and you looked down at the paper again and took a deep breath that you exhaled with a sigh. 

“I’ve never been in trouble before.” you said, your hands starting to bend and fold the paper on your lap absently. “I’m not good at being in trouble.”

“Well, lucky for you I’m here.” Eddie nudged your knee again with his. “Being in trouble is kind of my job here at Hawkin’s High. I’m a professional, you know. If I wasn’t here taking up all of Principal Higgin’s time he might have to actually do his job.” 

That last part was louder, as he directed it to Janice who refused to take the bait and only reached for her lilac stapler instead. 

A small smack on his arm drew his attention back to you, you were smiling at him looking astonished. “You’re gonna get us in trouble!” you whispered at him. 

“We’re already in trouble.” Eddie reminded you, his smile never fading. “Look, you’ve never been in trouble before, right? You’re gonna be fine. Just give him a good sob story about being overwhelmed with school, or about a sick pet. If you can squeeze out some tears that’s even better. The worst that he’s gonna do is give you a slap on the wrist and maybe detention if he’s in a shit mood”

You take in his words, listening to him carefully and taking in every word he was saying as if this was life or death. Eddie admittedly, had purposefully slipped into his Dungeon Master voice. It was a skill that normally only worked on his little sheepies in his club, and that was after semesters of training his players to listen and pay attention to his words or else it would be life or death for their characters. 

Having someone else listen to him like that? It felt really good. 

Your mouth started to open to say something but then the office door opened again and Higgin’s stepped in, nodding to Janice and then looking at the two of you. There was an accusatory look in his eyes as he made eye contact with Eddie again, and it was clear what that look said. Leave her alone, don’t make things worse for her than they already are. 

“Munson.” Higgins said and it took everything in him to stay still and not flinch at his last name. He was used to the weight that came with his name, but he hadn’t wanted you to know who he was. Not after he just remembered where he knew you from, glancing down at the note that you had folded into a flower in a fit of nerves. 

“I heard you missed me, Sir.” Eddie forced his eyes to meet Higgin’s. “You really should just start saying hi in the hallways instead of inviting me to these little chats every week. You’re taking away valuable learning time from me, you know.” 

If the two of them had been alone, Higgins would have snapped back at Eddie about being a smartass. But you were there, and the color had drained from your face again, and there was a shine to your eyes that was threatening to spill over your waterline. Higgins looked at you and motioned for you to follow him into his office. 

Eddie wished that you would turn and look at him before disappearing into the PrincePAL’s office. He could imagine you turning to look at him for comfort, he’d give you a smile that would put you at ease and a thumbs up. You’d give him another smile and walk in feeling brave. 

Instead it was like you forgot he was there as your figure disappeared behind the heavy wood door that shut with a heavy click. 

Of course Higgins had you come in first, even though Eddie had already been sitting here since the beginning of the period when he’d been called in. 

He was tempted to go over to the door and press his ear up against it to listen in on what he was saying to you but even Janice would scold him for that. So there Eddie sat for another ten minutes as he waited for you to step out again. 

Higgin’s was the one to open the door and let you out of the office, as if he were some gentleman instead of Eddie’s own personal warden five days a week. You walked out and to Eddie’s surprise you gave him a nod and mouthed thank you as you slipped back out the door and into the hallway. 

Eddie’s eyes followed you until he couldn’t see you anymore and it took Higgin’s standing in front of him with folded arms and saying his full government name for Eddie to snap back to reality. 

“Munson. A word about your little flyers?”

“Well, I’d say a picture is worth a thousand words-”

“In my office.”

Eddie didn’t remember much else about that talk, only remembering the white paper flower that had been carelessly tossed into the trash next to Higgin’s desk. 

“He still hasn’t called you?” Steve asked as you, him, and Robin continued your closing routine. The day had been busy, with almost everyone in Hawkins coming to rent a movie for the weekend. Robin was stocking the candy while you wiped down the sticky counter where children had been touching all day. Who’s idea was it to leave out free suckers on the counter anyway?

Oh right, that was your idea because you loved Halloween. 

“Nope.” you said, your voice a little tense. It had been almost two weeks since that night at the Hideout. You hadn’t returned to the dive bar, hoping that Eddie would call you and make the next move. Each passing day you had stayed as close to the phone as possible when you were home and you’d checked your voicemail every day when you got home for any sign that he’d attempted to reach out. 

Nothing. 

You shouldn’t feel this rejected but you did. It was far too early to tell if you had any feelings beyond initial attraction to the guy, but... you’d felt something. An enjoyment of bantering with him and an ease that came as naturally as your friendship with Robin and Steve. 

Plus, you had to admit it, he was really fucking hot. Seeing him play guitar two weeks ago had haunted your dreams and slipped into a few of your fantasies when you were alone. 

You kept that part to yourself though, that was the last thing that Steve or Robin needed to hear. Besides, that was Steve’s job to go far too into detail about his sex life. Steve had tried ribbing you about going home with Eddie but you’d told him that you were a complete gentleman with him. 

That night had left you feeling electrified, almost high as you danced around your room as you got ready for bed. Even as his odd parting rattled around your brain, you couldn’t help but to feel excited at the idea of seeing him again. 

Then a few days went by. Then a week. And now two weeks later you hadn’t heard from him. The kids hadn’t stopped by either so you couldn’t hassle them about Eddie either. Even if they had, you weren’t sure if you could ask about him, you didn’t want to come across as desperate. 

“Did you ever figure out what he meant by ‘five times?’” Robin asked, opening up a squished package of Reese's Cups. “Like, didn’t you say you didn’t know him?”

You threw your hands up before tossing the paper towels you were using to clean in the trash can. 

“I have no idea.” you said. “Either I’m bad at math, he’s bad at math, or maybe we’re both stupid.”

“He did get held back a few times.” Steve muttered to himself. 

“There’s a chance that you two have met before though.” said Robin, “I mean think about it, you’re both weirdos who went to the same school. Shouldn’t you both have bumped into each other before?” 

“You’d think so, but my group kind of kept to ourselves.” you said with a sigh. “We were private weirdos. When I DID try and make other friends-”

“Yeah, yeah, Chris Morrison shot you down.” Steve said, waving his hand. 

“Oh, you heard that story?” you laughed. “I didn’t think I mentioned it to you before.”

Steve gave you a blank stare that only made you laugh more. “I swear you keep talking about that guy more than Eddie. Maybe I should track him down and set you up on a blind date with him instead.” 

“Don’t you dare!” 

“Hey, that could be fun!” Robin added. “We’ll dress you up super hot, set you up with Chris, and then you can turn him down instead!” 

“Excuse you, Robin. I am always super hot.” you declared, straightening out your unflattering Family Video vest. “Who wouldn’t want a piece of this?”

You hadn’t done laundry in a week, and your hair had seen better days. The green polyester vest was wrinkled and if Keith saw you looking sloppy he’d probably have words about it. Not big words or even intimidating words, but words nonetheless. It was night and day compared to how you’d looked at the Hideout and the arcade earlier in the month. But it wasn’t like you had anyone to impress while you were at work anyway. 

“Hey, nerdy chicks can be hot.” Steve said. “I mean, Nancy’s an academic nerd and I was crazy about her.” 

You hummed thoughtfully and turned to Robin. “How about we get married instead?” you asked. “You, me, a fuck ton of cats, and a tax break. What do you say?”

Robin laughed and shook her head. “You aren’t my type.” Her eyes darted nervously to Steve for a split second and you sighed dramatically. 

“Guess it’s just me and the cats I’ll eventually adopt.” you said. “Not even a tax break.” 

“You know, Keith thinks you’re cute-”

“I am going to pretend that you did not just say that, Harrington.” you said firmly. “Nope, not happening. Uh-uh. Absolutely not.” 

“He’s not... that bad?” Robin said, but you could hear the pain in her voice through the laughter. “Methinks the lady doth protest too much.” 

“The lady is trying not to think actually.” you laugh. “We’re closed, I’m actually done thinking. I just wanna finish cleaning up and go home. What’s left?”

“Rewinding the returns,-”

“Ugh.”

“Cleaning up the kids movies,-”

“Ugh.”

“And cleaning the bathroom.”

“UGHHHHHH.” 

“Would you rather clean up the porn room?” asked Robin. 

“Yes actually, I would.” You said. “Whatever they think about doing in that room is what they do end up doing in the bathroom.”

“Gross.”

Steve sighed “Okay, I’ll be the hero and save you ladies from cleaning the bathroom. Robin, you fix the kids section, and you can rewind the tapes.”

“I thought I was in charge here.” You crossed your arms. 

“Okay, did you have a better way to divide and conquer?”

“...No.”

“Then let’s hurry up and-”

Ding!

“Who didn’t lock the door?!” you asked. 

“It was Steve’s job to-” Robin started. 

“Oh, shit. Hi.” Steve was staring at the person who had just walked in. You turned around and your heart jumped in your chest and your stomach dropped. 

“Cursing in front of customers, Harrington?” Eddie said. “Now that’s not very professional of you.”

Robin’s eyes were darting so fast between you and Eddie that you were surprised she wasn’t giving herself vertigo. You tried to give her a pointed glare but your friend either didn’t get the hint or refused to. 

“Well, we’re closed. You can’t be a customer if you can’t pay.” Steve said, putting his hands on his hips. 

Eddie looked away from Steve and made eye contact with you. It had been two weeks since you’d seen him, and you glazed at his arm for a second, trying to see if the faded remains of your phone number were still stamped on his arm. Unfortunately for you he was wearing a heavy leather jacket and you had not yet developed x ray vision. Perhaps in another genre. 

“Do you want to get out of here?” Eddie asked and you, ignoring Steve who looked mildly offended. 

You stood there in shock for a second before Robin nudged you in the rib. 

“I- uh. I have to finish closing.” you said, snapping out of it. 

“Steve and I can handle the rest of closing!” Robin grabbed Steve and shook his shoulder. 

“Guys, I’m literally in charge of you both. I can’t leave before you.” You said, already reaching for your bag under the counter. 

“We can handle it!” Steve said. 

“And I can handle Steve!” Robin added. “We close without you and Keith all the time, remember?”

You could trust Robin, and as long as Steve didn’t knock down any displays then it wouldn’t take them more than another ten minutes to finish up. You were so tempted to turn them down, make Eddie wait as you had waited for him for the past two weeks. 

But you were already stepping behind the counter towards Eddie and tossing the keys to lock up to Robin. Keith would murder you and write you up (in that order) if he knew what you were doing but looking up at the roundest pair of brown eyes you’d ever seen had you in the mood to make questionable choices. 

You shrugged off your vest and tossed it at Steve, in an attempt to make yourself look like you hadn’t spent the whole day dealing with unruly customers and screaming kids. Part of you almost wished that you had agreed to bathroom duty, if only to give you an excuse to look in a mirror and straighten yourself out. 

“Thanks, guys.” you gave them a quick nod, catching sight of Robin’s knowing smirk and Steve shaking his head before walking out the door that Eddie was holding open for you. 

The last thing you heard was the scrambling of the entrance to Family Video being locked. 

Part 7

Dividers by @strangergraphics

Please comment and reblog <3

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[its-in-the-woods]

The Woman Who Couldn’t Die Part 16

master list

Part 1 , Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Par 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10 , Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14, Part 15

Pairing: The Ghoul/Cooper Howard x Original Character

Synopsis: “I think we should pull her teeth,” Nat muttered to himself, he wasn’t much for body desecration but teeth fetched a good bag of caps.

MINOR GET OUT. Rating/Warning: This is based on Fallout expect typical horror, blood, gore, death, weapons, memory loss, necrophilia themes, desecration of a body,

Hello! I am back, for those who don't know me outside of this.. I get SAD really bad between Nov-January, but I seem to be on the up and the words are flowing. Thank you for all ! Can't wait for the next chapter. New series coming soon!

***

The leaf litter rustled against the fabric of the worn coat, a bloody head covered in the dirt, and brain matter left a bloody trail behind them. The men’s heavy boots echoing against the low bush, as they march side by side, one leg in each hand. A coordinated effort to get the body out to the trail. As the bush parts open to reveal another man, going over the spoils of what they had found at the massacre site. They had found several dead bodies, the smell had alerted the ragtag group that there may have been something worth gathering. Finding an intact body amongst the other dead was interesting. They had debated dragging her out or leaving her for dead, but their ringleader Nat had pointed out she may be worth something at the chop shops. 

“Is she heavy for her size?” Rag groans as he flops her leg down beside the bags. Wiping sweat off his dirty forehead leaving streaks across it. He is a small man with dirty grey hair, thin in the way most Wastelander were. Lack of food and good nutrients hadn’t helped any. He grabs a canteen from the pile and takes a swig making a face at the taste of the water.

Trucker chuckles, leering at the smaller man from under his hat. Same worn baseball cap he had found ages ago, it kept the sun off his steadily growing bald spot. He was taller and thicker than Rags by a good amount, but that was probably because his family was chicken farmers. “Nah you’re just weak, Rags.” He grabs his bottle, wincing at the stale water, but water was water after all. Though he longed for a cold harder drink.

Rag kicks at her leg, his boot two sizes too big, nearly falling off with the motion. Trucker laughing at the way he almost falls over. “Why she not all rotten like the rest of them?”

Nat strolls over, he is a tall lean man, with dirty blonde hair and several scars across his arms. The man was older than both but carried himself like a younger man. “Not sure, she got a bullet hole in the center of her head, but it’s like she is just asleep.”

Trucker grumbles, going over to some of the bags to dig around in the pile. “Some Enclave shit, I don’t like it. Should have just left her there.”

“Maybe they will want her back?” Rag asks, looking her up and down, a dark look passing across his face. "Think we could make a few caps off her." He turns his head sideways leaning towards her, “Or maybe we could-”

“Shut up.” Nat hisses and glaring daggers, he was not having any of that. There were still lines he wouldn't cross even out here. “Why I keep you sick fucks around I will never know.”

Rag shrugs, crouching down close to her, reaching out to touch the buttons on her jacket, tongue poking out to lick his lips. “If she’s dead, does it really matter?”

The back of Nat’s hand hits Rag’s face hard enough to knock him off his feet. A knife slid into Nate's hand as he walks over to the fallen man, Trucker getting up between them. “Come on you two dipshits, not worth killing each other over.”

Nat glares at Rag but puts his knife away, going back over to the body on the ground. He would have happily let that dirty piece of roach bleed where he lay. “You sick fuck stay over there like you’ve never seen someone of the opposite sex before.”

Rag puts his hands up pushing himself back onto his feet and going through bags. The three men digging out anything that could be traded, or sold, a small pile forming in the middle of the pathway. They weren’t worried about anyone coming upon them. Auto had burned to the ground a month or so ago, and almost no one came north this late in the summer. They only did it cause they were scavengers, going places most wouldn’t go to get the goods that many wanted. They were heading north while the rest headed south, they were quick and efficient. Anything valuable left behind they’d gather before high tailing it south before any cold weather came, it was a solid grift they’d be running for going on three winters now.  

“I think we should pull her teeth,” Nat muttered to himself, he wasn’t much for body desecration but teeth fetched a good bag of caps. He drew the line at molestation, but stealing teeth from someone dead wasn’t the worst thing he’d done. They were here for caps, that kept them alive, bellies fed, and somewhere warm to stay. Leaning above her he pushed her lips up to see what he was working with. 

Her eyes shot open, nearly black with glints of gold, mouth falling open with a groan causing Nat to fall backward onto his ass. The woman groans louder, all the men now stepping in the opposite direction of the dead body. Her mouth opening and closing at it gasps for air, her body convulsing and stirring, back arched up as she awakens. 

“What the fuck,” Rag shutters, all but hiding behind the other two men, as their eyes widen in horror. “She should be dead.”

She coughs and sputters, black goop coming out of her mouth as she manages to sit herself up. Her arms and hands look more like doll parts than a human as she tries to right herself. Blinking several times she takes in the three men in front of her, one eye sticking closed before she manages to rub it back open. Hands stiff and ridge as she tries to get herself moving.

“W-here?” She grunts, her mouth dry as she looks at them. Reaching over she grabbed a canteen of water, her hands too stiff to open the lid. Nat comes over uncapping it and helping ease the water into her mouth. Coughing more the gunk onto the ground, it was thick like old oil in some of the burnt-out cars you could find. 

“How are you alive,” Rag whimpers, only the top of his head seen above Trucker’s shoulders. Sometimes being a good head shorter was good, especially for hiding.

Nat digs around in the bags, finds some dried jerky, and hands it to her. “Umm, you’re about two hours outside Auto.”

She blinks several times, gently taking the meat out of his hand. Her other hand rubbing at her eyes, fingers going up to trace against the outline of where the bullet wound was. Her fingers go around it several times, brows scrunching as she chews. Nat could see the dexterity slowly coming back as she continues to move and look around. It was like watching a newborn learn how to walk for the first time. 

“Auto,” She says quietly, hand going down across her arms to rub at marks. Nat hadn’t noticed the scars before now. There were at least half a dozen on each arm, not including what looked like old track wounds. 

“What’s your name,” Trucker asks, scooting a little bit away from Rags to snatch a bag and start stuffing stuff into it. He was not going to let her take away all his spoils. 

Blinking again, her eyes didn’t seem as dark as she looks around some more. “I am not sure, I don’t remember-” Instinctively she reaches out and grabs a machete not far from her, she grips it, fingers slotting perfectly into the handle. “I think this was mine.” 

Rag is still standing back, muttering away to himself as he keeps his body as small as possible. “Nothin’ is really anyones, yah no.”

Nat glared at him, silencing him as much as he could, “Whatever you need, feel free to grab. We are just scavengers, finding things to trade or sell.” 

She turns to look at the stuff before her, Nat staring into the back of her head. There should be a good-sized hole there, but all that is there is crusted hair. It didn’t make sense, he had never seen anyone survive a bullet to the forehead.

“You shouldn’t be alive,” Rag says again, Nat is about ready to knock his teeth out, he was dumping him at the next outpost they found. The man was becoming too unhinged even for him.

The woman stares at him, her eyes blank, it was clear she didn’t understand what was happening. She picks up a knife and pistol, the two going into a pack along with the canteen she had grabbed earlier.

“I don’t think I should be alive,” She looks between them all, “But I am alive,” 

***

The group had debating giving her name but had decided on just calling her the girl. She had made the choice to go North back towards Auto, the town name sounded familiar but she wasn't sure why. Standing in the wreckage of the town didn’t give her many answers, it was familiar yet not familiar. Her head was pounding, the mark on her forehead was throbbing. The men kept asking her questions she could not answer, all she had were fragments of memories that would flash and disappear as fast. It was more like shards of glass that kept poking through, but it was hard to hold onto the pieces for longer than a second. 

Nat stuck near her, he seemed to want to keep her safe. Was safe the right word? She didn’t like the other two that much, Rags made her skin crawl, something about him was not right, the way his eyes never quite looked at hers. Trucker was mostly silent, he also made her edgy but not the same way Rags did. Regardless she was aware that their paths would divide sooner than later, as soon as she could figure out who she was. Something had to trigger things right? Maybe this town would, or what was left of it. Maybe it would make the pieces not so jagged. She kicks at some burnt metal wishing her mind worked, eyes whirling around the place. It was all the same blackened nothing, a black burnt metal on top of more metal.

She walks around, her legs were still stiff and aching like she hadn’t moved in days. Her fingers went back to her forehead, the mess that she had felt in her hair. How long had she been lying in the forest, what had happened in the forest? Why was she the only one alive? Who was traveling with her? 

“You’ll figure it out,” Nate says quietly, coming to stand close to her. She nearly jumps glaring at him, not wanting him any closer to her. 

“Do you know who shot me? Is that what this?” Shrub points at her forehead, the raised edges catching on to her finger. 

Nat’s eyes go wide and he raises his hands up palms out, “No, we found you like that. I don’t know what happened.”

Shrub groans and sitting down on a piece of burnt rubble, rubbing her face and then down her arms. Her fingers find the different marks on her arms, lifting up her shirt seeing more scars smattered on her stomach . Some look older than others, others fresh, what had happened to her. 

Bang

Jade!

She blinks a few times, the name Jade bouncing around inside her head. Who was Jade? Was it someone she was with, was it one of the dead bodies in the forest? Did she kill Jade? 

“Nothing makes sense.” She grumbles looking around the place. More flashes of memories, the town not burnt but whole. The streets where busy with people moving around. She could see herself walking across to the building directly from her, someone shadowing behind her. 

She is up and moving without thinking, heading towards what is left of the building, a building that is familiar. It had melted fencing surrounding the place, she carefully stepped over some of the debris. Going down along the blackened brick to the back, there are several burnout trailers. The memories hit again, the trailers not burnt, the lights low, a shower, the warmth of a fire. 

Bang!

Jade! 

“You’ve been here before?” Nat asks he had kept close to her, staying just a few feet behind her, but close enough he could see the wreckage past her.

“Jade,” She says the name out loud as if she were testing out how it fits on her tongue. It was her name and the more she said it the more it fit her.

Nat nods his head, a small smile on his face as if understanding what she is saying, “That’s got to be your name, right?” 

Jade nods her head, “I think so, I was here before this burnt. I can see what it looked like before everything went up in flames. I stayed in these trailers” She gestures at the burnt husks of metal. 

“Well, you got a name now. Maybe you’ll remember the rest,” Nat adds, looking almost hopeful as he watches her. Jade looked this way and that, explaining how things had looked before it had all gone up in flames.

Jade stands in the middle of the space, walking towards one of the trailers that she was sure was hers. She peers behind it seeing a large hole in the fence. “I went through here before it burnt to the ground.”

This is where she had escaped, something had chased her through the hole. Did someone try to kill her? Then left her in the woods? There were so many questions, without answers. They were trapped behind millions of fragments of memories.

The two turn at the crunch of gravel, coming out from behind to see that Trucker had shown up, a piece of paper in his hands. “Bounty. Wonder if this was the dude that burnt the place down?” 

Taking the paper Jade looks it over, a striking drawing of a gnarled face of a man looks up at her, his face scarred and hollowed in some area. He wears a crooked smile, missing a nose, yet she still would call him handsome. She knew him without reading the words written below, it was the Ghoul. She knew him, had met him before, maybe it was here in town.

“The Ghoul, he was here,” Jade stated, though it wasn’t anger she felt towards him. She felt remorse. As id she missed him, or something, what was it?

Nat grabs the paper looking it over, lips going into a thin line. “Bet he was the one that burnt the place down. Ghouls, nothing but zombies that think they are still human.”

Jade’s stomach clenches at his words, heat flooding her face. The urge to strike him, made her hands clench.“You sure? I don’t remember him doing anything bad.”

Trucker spat on the ground, “Yeah, I’ve heard of him. Some bounty hunter with a big ego, legend has it he was around when they first dropped the bombs. A killer for hirer type.”

“So you just assume he would burn the town down?” Jade pushes, flashes of a shadow in the shape of a cowboy making her question everything they were saying. She knew somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew they were wrong. 

Chuckling Trucker grabs the paper balls it up tossing it. “There have been outposts and towns burnt all up and down this area. He was probably looking for someone, trying to cover his tracks.”

“Whose covering tracks?” Rag walks in looking at the burntout area. Jade immediately backing away from him. He keeps himself away from her too, at least the discomfort was mutual. 

“Nothing, we should grab what we can and then keep heading north,” Nat shrugs it off, walking out of the fenced area. “No point staying here any longer than we need.”

Jade stands there looking around the place, going over to the crumpled-up paper she grabs it and smooths it out. Holding the piece up she notices that one side is ripped like it had been torn in half. She folds it neatly, stuffing it into one of her pockets to keep it safe, something wasn’t adding up. Whatever it was she wasn’t going with them, she was going to head south, that was the direction she needed to go. Following the men back out to the main part of town with her mind made up. 

“I think I am going to go south,” Jade says firmly as she catches up with the three men. “I don’t think north is the way I am supposed to go.”

The three look at her as if she is asking to walk off a cliff. Nat’s brows are scrunched together, Trucker’s are lost somewhere under his hat, and Rags looks as indifferent as ever. It didn’t matter not really anyway, they owed her nothing.

“I don’t think you should be on your own, Jade,” Nat states, taking a step towards her hand outstretched. “You might not remember, but the Wastes aren’t safe.”

Jade squares her shoulders looking at him directly, “No, I don’t remember much of anything. But my gut is telling me not to go North, so I ain’t going.”

Trucker rolls his eyes, snatching up his pack. “Yeah, good luck to yah. If you need anything, don't come looking for us.” He turns to start walking out of the town, Rag does the same without a word. 

Nat stands there, hands now clenched around the straps of his bag. “I’ll come with you then. You shouldn’t be out here alone.”

Trucker and Rags groan in unison at the words, Rags flipping them off as he continues to walk. Trucker stops to look at them, hands on his hips, face scrunched together. He grabs Rags and drags him back towards Nat and Jade. Rags moans the entire way back as he comes to a stop beside Nat.

“No, no, no way, dude.” Trucker grumbles, stopping a few feet from Nat. “We’ve been travelling together for -” He throws his hands up in the air. “Now you're just gonna dump us to play white knight.”

“I don't need anyone’s help,” Jade states, not liking Trucker’s tone and the way Rag is just standing there glaring. “Go North, I am going South.”

Nat grabs her arm, Jade grabs him, and immediately throws him over her shoulder. He hits the ground with a thud, his eyes wide in shock as he stares up at Jade. 

“What the fuck are you doing,” Truker pushes Jade back, going to help Nat up off the ground. 

Jade stood there wide-eyed and confused how she knew how to do that, it had felt like a well-practiced instinct. 

“I am sorry,” Jade replies, chewing against one of her bottom lip as bile touches the back of her throat. “I shouldn’t have done that.

“No shit,” Rags growls at her, grabbing up Nat’s bag as he scowls at her. “Lot of thanks we get offering you help.”

Nat sighs, dusting himself off, and taking the bag from Rags. “It’s fine, you don’t need us anymore.”

Jade stands there, at a loss for words as the three men turn away from her. She watches as they walk away, her heart heavy. Part of her wanting to go after them, they had helped her after all, but part of her knew better. She was not meant to go with them, her journey lay south. 

***

-> Chapter 17 <-

@pixelatedprofilepic @hiddlebatchedlokii @toogaytofunctiondangit @dionneroyal49 @dichromaniac

@whatsorceressisthis

[plussizefantasia]

Getting Lost

Flufftober Day 29: Corn Maze

Steve Harrington X reader

Word Count: 0.9k

AN: We're almost done! Just two more to go. This one has some foul language, if that isn't your thing then don't read. Reblogs and Feedback are always appreciated. I'll see y'all tomorrow.

divider credit @royallaesthetics

“I don't give a shit what you do, just leave us alone until it's time to go home.” Was Steve’s gruff command to the children that you had taken to the fall festive at Colbert’s Farm on the edge of town.

“But what if there's an emergency or something?” Dustin asked.

“You’re smart dipshit, you’ll figure something out.” Was Steve’s only reply before pulling you by your hand away from the herd of teenagers and into the opposite direction. As always, Steve was the babysitter. The teens said that they wanted to go to the fall festival. They pulled some puppy-dog eye bullshit and strong-armed Steve and you into giving them rides and being the chaperones that their parents now required for any outing.

They had thrown out practically everything they thought would work on you but what really pushed you over the edge was Eleven’s small voice telling you that she had never had a real Halloween and she was getting too old to really enjoy it.

You folded like a house of cards and Steve followed you in whatever you did. That is how the two of you landed babysitting duty twenty minutes out of time for an entire day. Luckily you didn’t have to bankroll the empty pits that were commonly known as the party. One too many times you had forked over your entire paycheck to the little shitheads. After that, you demanded that anything they wanted when you were out needed to be paid for by themselves or their parents. 

“I can’t afford my own shit if I’m using all my money on you guys.” You had yelled at them when they complained about the new rule.

Being the babysitter on duty didn’t necessarily mean that you had to watch them. At least that is what Steve had claimed when another date night had been ruined by a teenage ambush. If you followed along with that line of thinking, then running away to go make out in the corn maze wasn’t actually breaking any rules. 

Steve wasn’t really wrong when he said that they could take care of themselves. These children had fought literal monsters, they could handle themselves at some autumn-themed gathering in the middle of nowhere.

“Where are we going?” You had asked Steve, after ten minutes of pulling on your arm and the tenth turn in the corn maze. You were almost one hundred percent sure that Steve had no idea where he was going.

“They won’t be able to find us if we get lost.” 

‘That is the stupidest thing you’ve probably ever said.”

“We could always turn around and spend the whole day following after them.”

“No!” You yelled. You stopped moving forward. “No, I think that that would be even more stupid. 

“That's what I thought.” Steve sounded smug. He continued to pull you for another few minutes, making turn after turn. ‘Alright, I think we are sufficiently lost.”

“Yeah but, what are we gonna do now.” 

Steve neglected to answer you with words. He just grabbed the back of your head and brought your lips to his. Kissing Steve was always magical, whether it was early morning kisses soaked in admiration and a little bit of drowsiness, or they were like this. Hot and passionate, Steve kissed you like he’d never be able to kiss you again. 

Steve was gentle but strong. He didn’t let you pull away but he let you guide the kiss. He pulled and pushed you like the moon did to the tides. You were at his mercy, letting the entire world fall away. 

In those stolen moments, you and Steve shared a connection that went beyond words. It was a kiss that spoke of longing and passion. 

When he kissed you it was a promise. A promise for a life full of joy, a reassurance of his love. It was always more than just a kiss, Steve Harrington never just kissed.

You don’t know how long you two were intertwined in the midst of the corn stalks. It could have been seconds, hours, years. When you were with Steve time didn’t matter. Nor did your responsibilities. Yet somehow both of them always caught up with you.

It was a clearing of a throat that drew you out of your bubble.

A disgusted Lucas stood behind a disgruntled Dustin. Next to them were Max and El, giggling together and fanning their faces in the most dramatic way they could. Mike and Will stood next to each other, looking very much the picture of embarrassment. 

“What?” Steve asked, still holding onto you.

“Where the hell have you been?” Dustin demanded.

“Where do you think?” you asked him. 

“The festival closes in thirty minutes. We’re all hungry and we’ve been looking for you for the past hour.” Lucas filled you in.

“Well, you found us,” Steve replied, unhelpfully. 

“Do any of you shitbirds remember how to get out of here?” you asked them. El nodded and started making her way back through the maze. It was almost freaky how on point she was with her turns. She flawlessly guided the rest of you through the maze, you all making it out just in time to leave before they locked the gate.

“Alright. Climb in fuckers, we’re going to McDonalds.” Steve hollard. The teens followed the instructions dutifully. Climbing into either your car or Steve’s depending on who they had come with.

You and Steve pulled close to one another before getting in your cars to take the kids home. Steve kissed you one more time and faintly from his backseat you heard the curly-haired child yell. “Not again.”

You and Steve flipped him off in unison.

[vellichorom]

You make rlly good rants / have great takes,. So. I was wondering. What do you think is the biggest / most popular stereotype when it comes to the Narrator ??

I wanna make a drawing kinda based off of the stereotypes people see , and I was wondering what you think. Is probably most popular :3

oh GOD, the biggest most popular stereotype eh? ironically asked just as i'm listening to the narrator's voice lines...

well, i'm going to have to go with something OBVIOUS & say that that would be the IMPOSSIBLE to miss notion that " he's hot " & people envisioning him ONLY through an attractive filter;

do i think his voice is attractive? of COURSE i do, i'm not made of stone! & kevan PRIDES himself in his work & knows a vast majority are INSANE about his voice, as well he should, he's got great talent!

HOWEVER, then going on to define his EVERYTHING based on this attraction is annoying at best & sickeningly irritating at worst.

it's SO obvious some narrator designs are solely based on artist wet dreams or banking on others', with the narrator's actual characterization being thrown COMPLETELY out the window.

guys your sexyman literally gets all pouty without attention & has the bite of a 5th grader, he would Not be as attractive or cool as you think he is. this ISN'T even exclusive TO people who make the narrator a handsome twink either! however, it is WAY more prevalent in that area, therefore we side-eye.

it just feels a Lot like others create designs SIMPLY based around aesthetics & generic appeal rather than... creating a CHARACTER, or recognizing the character that DOES come attached with the voice you find so hot. & then SOMETIMES, people form entirely alternate characterization for their design rather than canon, but still insisting that it IS indeed canon!

listen can we stop touting the funny clock 0ut guy as the Token, peak, & true TSP narrator design. i like him too but it's making me real upset now

IF you're going for characterization of the narrator that you want to be AS TRUE to canon as possible, you need to take a step back & realize this man is a manchild & probably does Not have the divine powers of a god & doesn't have to Look or Act as attractive as you think his voice is. even the most BEAUTIFUL aspects of a person can come from a deeply flawed individual & that's okay, & in characters, EXTREMELY endearing! insisting to make a character beautiful & flawless in every aspect just results in a very flat character that will ONLY ever serve as basic eyecandy, & only to a handful in the end.

beyond that, i can't really think of anything else that's as strongly stereotyped for the narrator beyond. you know, general fandom mischaracterizations methink? pushing his attitude to extremes with NO even level & misunderstanding his intentions. ...but at this rate, i'll TAKE THE most pathetic soft boy narrator as opposed to the absolutely physically RIPPED daddy narrators i've had to see a few times. jesus

& hey, listen- MAKE your AUs, MAKE your characterizations into OCs & such, do WHATEVER you want that makes you happy, i'm REALLY HONESTLY not here to kill anyone's fun & i won't ever resent you for how you choose to enjoy your blorbos, take my words with some salt; these are simply my dipshit ass opinions that some people enjoy hearing!

which, THANK YOU anon! may this new rant satisfy thee & help you with your project!

[justagirl-with-aphone]

~The coffee shop in my heart~

fem!coffee shop employee x Prohero!Bakugo

Just 3 more hours, you thought to yourself. 3 more hours and I get to go home and snuggle with my cat. You sigh, wiping up the remains of a broken glass a kid dropped on the floor. You’ve been working since 6am, its now 3pm, and understandably, you weren’t a bundle of sunshine right about now. A hectic day filled with entitled customers, and screeching little demons kids running wild, and your shitty boss on top of everything else. The only think keeping you going is the vacation you were almost saved up for, just a few more days of dealing with this bullshit and beach here I come!!

Returning to your spot at the cash register, you continue taking peoples orders. “YOU BITCH, THIS ISN’T WHAT I WANTED, GIVE ME A REFUND AND MAKE ME SOMETHING ELSE.” an angry man screamed at you, entitled people are just the best... 

“Sir, as I said several times, as much as I would hate love to fix your issue, I’m just the cashier here, I’m not the one who made your drink. However, cannot give you a refund if that is exactly what you ordered, you asked for a white chocolate mocha, and that’s what you got. We do not give refunds if you don’t like the drink. We give refunds if there’s a mistake, allergy concern, or if the drink was made wrong. Now please either step to the side or vacate the premises, you’re holding up the line.” It took everything in you to remain polite to the man screaming in your face, if he didn’t like white chocolate mochas, why would he order one? You questioned, annoyed as hell. 

Said man, ignoring everything you just said, continues to demand a refund, screaming at you for the next few minutes. Everyone else in line left from the scene, but the familiar chime of the bell above the door rings, indicating a new customer. Too busy to greet said customer, you ask the man to leave again, getting fed up with his shit. 

“Oi” a gruff voice booms, catching yours and the mans attention. 

“What do you want-” the man spins around to confront the man interrupting his tantrum only to freeze in place. 

“Leave. Now. I got places to fuckin’ be.” The ash blonde man voices, menacingly. 

The male Karen stomps out, admitting defeat. Wanting to thank your savior, you take a look at him, only to be met with piercing vermilion eyes. The man was tall, and was on the bulkier side with ash blonde hair. he came dressed in a black sweatshirt and some tech-wear pants. He was hot. “You gonna fucking take my order, or are you gonna keen drooling?” Then man asks sarcastically, apparently you zoned out. You roll your eyes at the remark and scoff, patience running thin from your encounters earlier. 

“What do you want?” you ask, no longer using your cheery customer service voice, you were drained. 

“Coffee. Black.” the man states, pulling out his sleek black card. 

“I need a name please,” you write the order and give it to the barista.

“Bakugo.” Bakugo states gruffly. nice name, you note. While your coworker is in the back making the drink, you’re left to make small talk. 

“I wanted to thank you for earlier, he wasn’t the most pleasant.” your customer service voice back on in full swing. 

“Cut that shit out. Its annoying as hell.” You look at the man confused, a little irritated. “The act dipshit.” So much for thanking him...

“And here I thought you were a nice guy helping me out by getting rid of the man. But I guess first impressions aren’t everything now are they?” you question, looking at the man. “Since you don’t want the “act,” this is what I think. I rather be anywhere but here dealing with your obnoxiousness rude self centered ass.” Grabbing the cup from your coworker, you hand it to him with a cheery fake smile and voice “Have a great rest of your day.” walking to the kitchen and exiting out the back door. Finally your shift was over. 

You were surprised the man they called Bakugo never reported what you said to your manager. What surprised you EVEN more was when he came back the next day... and the next... and the next...It became a daily thing, this went on for about 2 months. Everyday, he would walk in, order a black coffee, and annoy the shit out of you an hour. But the most surprising thing out of all of this is you started to like him being there. 

“Oi, dumbass” Bakugo greeted, in his own, interesting way.

“What’s this? No more “extra”? I’ve upgraded” You feign shock. Bakugo rolls his eyes and asks for his usual.

You feel a pair of eyes on you. While your taking Bakugo’s order, come to think of it, you’ve felt eyes on you all day. Confused by the attention, you turn to meet eyes with the man. The same guy who cussed you out before. Looking at the man, you weren’t mentally prepared for what this motherfucker was about to do. He picked up a glass of water, looked you dead in the eye and dumped it on the table. 

You were going to kill him.

You ball your hands into a fist, resisting the urge to punch his lights out. “I don’t get paid enough for this shit. ” As you’r about to walk over there with the rag you retrieved, a certain blonde snagged the rag from your hands, stomping over to where the guy sat. “Clean it the fuck up.” Bakugo growls, throwing the rag at him. ‘You thought he would’ve learned his lesson the first time, but apparently not.’ You thought to yourself while watching the man clean up the mess he made...

[petew21-blog]

You and Hugh belong together

A story submitted anonymously: Could you do a story with Hugh Jackman swapping bodies with Ryan Reynolds?

01/12/2024

Hey guys, thus is Ryan Reynolds. I just have a new update for the Deadpool movie you all have been asking for. Well, thanks to someone out there wiritng fanfictions about the two of us, we now got in a situation where we truly don't want to be. So, to the person writing the body swap fiction, please stop. I have no desire in wiping Hugh's butt everyday and see my own face every single day we're shooting the movie. Ok? Now go and fix this.

01/14/2024

Hey, please stop this. Hugh might try to tell you that we both want this swap to last, but don't believe him, please. He is so into my body now and can't stop reminding me how fit and flexible my body is. I even caught him blowing himself. And the worst thing is... I never managed to do that! Fix this!!!

01/16/2024

Ok, you dipshit. I have lost my patience. Having Hugh in my body is one thing, but no one except me can sleep with my wife. This crossed a line that it never should have. I don't know if it's Hugh's body being attracked to my own, but if you have something to do with this. Stop now.

01/20/2024

Hey, Ryan here. The actual one and only Ryan Reynolds. Ehm... Hugh has been acting weird for the past few days. You know how these older people get haha. Yeah. So everything is great aaaand we're doing our best ot make the movie possible. Stay tuned.

02/15/2024

Oh hey. This is Rya..Hugh. Here. I am happy and everything is fine actually... I have to be honest with you. I don't know what is happening anymore. My and Ryan's, no waiit. Hugh's body... Whatever. Both of our bodies are drawn to each other everyday. If I don't jerk off atleast twice a day thinking about us having wild sex, I cum unwillingly. I beg you, please fix this

05/18/2024

Hey guys. As you may have noticed me and RYAN left together for a holiday just for the two of us. Everything has been working out great. I just came back to delete some of the delusional posts I have been writing for the past few months. I am doing much better now thanks to all of you. Especially to you kind sir behind the computer for allowing me a proper CHANGE of my life. Hope to see you all soon. Bye...

What did you say Ryan? Yeah, of course I'm ready for round two. Be right there

Hope you liked the story. I thoguht that Ryan, the Deadpool himself, was the perfect candidate for a fourth wall break. Hope I entertained.

To all who submitted a story, please be patient. Your story is next in line

[wannaeatramyeon]

Vin Jin x Reader: Confessing to you

Friends to lovers. In his own unique way.

"Who the hell would even date you? Duke Pyeon?!" Vin laughs uproariously at his own joke.

Fuck him. Seething, you stand to leave.

"Actually. It's that guy you hate in the fashion department."

That stops his laughter completely.

"What the FUCK!" Vin shouts at your retreating back. He turns to Mary, "Did you hear what they said?!"

"Vin." is all Mary says, levelling him with a look.

.

.

The lack of notifications on Vin's phone is deafening. He stares at it, willing it to buzz.

So what if you're on your 'date' right now. So what if you've been with that dipshit for the past 47, no wait- 48 minutes now. So what if you might be holding hands, and he's kissing-

Fuck. No. That's fucking gross.

Ok. He has a plan. You probably wouldn't be texting Vin, but Vin can text you. Something to remind you of him. To distract you a little. To derail whatever is going on.

His fingers hover, ready to compose a message. But then the words from your last few exchanges catches his eyes. They taunt him.

Y/N: this song reminds me of you! [link]

Vin: Cool

Y/N: Coffee?

Vin: Nah

Y/N: Hey the new blockbuster is out! Cinema this weekend?

Vin: Busy

Goddamn. It hits him like a freight train.

.

.

"Forget that loser, go out with me."

"Why the fuck would I do that?"

Vin hands you a piece of paper, looking immensely impressed with himself.

You take it with caution, furrowing your brows at him before finally reading. Great, some more cringe from this idiot:

Yo I like your melons

It gets me in my feelings (Did he seriously rhyme melons with feelings?)

Fuck that fashion fool

Not literally, ho- (... the fuck?)

He's a massive tool

Without a massive tool (Ok, that line did make you snigger.)

Fuck Architecture

Fuck Comics, we're better

Fuck that Beauty guy

I fucking hate them all (This is taking a turn...)

I can smash them all to pieces, I'll break their legs

I'll make them puke blood, they think they're stronger than me?

CHEONLIANG ANSWERS TO NO ONE- (Wow. Okay. It devolves into absolute gibberish from here on out-)

"That's a yeah?" Vin grins at you expectantly.

You peer down again at... Whatever the hell this is, you don't even know.

You still grip it like a love letter.

Guess you're the actual fool.

[i-literally-cant-with-this]

A/N= I had this idea 5 or so days ago, and I can't tell you how much Professor Geto stuff I've seen since. I guess we're all on the same wavelength, and that's awesome. There needs to be more Professor Geto in the world.

C/W= P->V. Oral (giving/receiving). Lap riding. Masturbation (tiny talk of toys). Adult movie. Some cutesy shit. Some humor. Maybe a few other things. MDNI NSFW 🔞

W/C: 7k+some

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For Science! 👊

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"The pattern of the effectual relationship is more obvious in the decline of overall satisfaction. Do you all see how this corroborates with the suggestion that love and sex don't have to go hand in hand?" He looked at you when he said this. It made you shift slightly in your warmed seat.

Professor Geto was trying not to lose his students' attention in this lecture. But they were all idiots who were run solely by their hormones.

"She can go hand my cock!" Someone yelled from the middle of the auditorium.

"Yes. What a very clever hypothesis," Geto said. "Why, uh, why don't you all just head out. Winter break starts in ... 39 minutes. Just go. Happy whatever. I'll see you in the new year when we're back in session."

The same asshole yelled out, "You mean SEX-SION!" Him and his dipshit friends laughed all the way to the courtyard.

Geto, unamused, shook his head and adjusted his glasses as the rest of his students filed out into the snow. He began putting a gross amount of paperwork into his worn leather bag, and then he looked around to make sure everyone was gone before he locked up.

His eyes landed on you. In your heavy sweatshirt and jeans. You sat in the very last seat in the front row, farthest from the exit.

"Were you asleep when I told everyone to go? Fucking kids these days –" You cut off his complaint and asked him if he could go over one thing with you before you left.

"Oh, a legitimate question. I apologize. What about ....?" He turned his left ear a little to you, hinting at you to say what your name was.

You put your hand to your chest, "Y/n. It's y/n."

"Ok, y/n. What's your question?" You gathered up your laptop and scattered papers and stuck them in your backpack. Then you stood and walked over to him.

He immediately saw how beautiful you are, even hidden away under the navy blue sweatshirt and bulky jeans you wore. You pulled your hood off and let your hair pool around your shoulders.

It surprised him, you staying behind. Most of his students made a run for it as quickly as possible.

Professor Geto was no fool. In fact, he was quite intuitive. He'd run his course based on several factors; how the audience was reacting to him, how he was being perceived at different parts of his lectures. He was always aware of his surroundings.

You got to his desk and leaned your curvy hips against the edge of the heavy, dark wood.

"You say that scientists have long supported the idea that love and sex don't have to go hand in hand?"

"Mmhm." He nodded. Feeling the slightest rush of heat throughout his body while discussing this with you. Surely, he shouldn't feel like he was crossing a line. He was the professor of a very valid and increasingly important course. Plus, you approached him. It's not as if he asked you to stay behind to discuss your grade so he could bend you over his desk and fuck an 'A' next to your name on his computer. These things were typical discussion topics.

"Have these "scientists" done any studies of the effects of dopamine levels in two people that fuck —"

Both of your eyes locked with the other's. Uncertain if you meant to say that to him as he was your teacher or if you intentionally left the word dangling between the two of you in the emptied room.

"If you fuck someone enough..." you continued like you were, for the most part, unphased by his pause. "...and they're good at what they do, and they make you cu– I mean, climax often, if not consistently, then on a semi-regular basis, won't some sort of feelings develop over time? Like, there would be some sort of attachment formed. I know it would be hard for me to be fucking someone, to be so intimate with them and not have feelings bubble up at some point. Especially with all the hormones and shit involved. Some people just make you feel better. You can feign physical attraction. But a chemical one? I don't know."

He stared at you with a blank face. You looked right back at him, waiting for his answer. Your e/c drawing him in. Shifting your backpack from your right shoulder to your left, you cleared your throat.

"Um, shit. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked YOU this. I'll go talk to my family priest or something."

Geto laughed, "You have a priest?" You sat your stuff down and scrunched up your nose, smiling back at him. "Well, no. The only time my family talks to God is when their asses are in the air gettin' – no. Not religious."

"Did you have any other ideas about sex and love? How can you have them both, none, or merely one or the other?"

You were a little taken aback as to why he wasn't offering you an answer. You did, after all, approach him about this.

"What are you doing right now?" He asked you, hoping to come across as cool and apathetic as he always was. But his cock was beginning to ache for your undivided attention. And though Professor Geto was a master at driving people's attention where he wanted it, he could not seem to alter your ability to maintain eye contact.

You suddenly straightened your body at his question. "W‐what am I doing right now? I mean," for some reason, you wanted to come off as if you were in really high demand.

That was anything but the truth: Your mother and step-dad went to his family's vacation home in the English countryside a week before you were out for the winter. They offered to pay for your ticket. But you really didn't like Christmas anyway and told them you had a lot of studying to do.

"Do you have plans over the holiday with your family? Friends?" He waited what he thought was a healthy amount of time before he asked you if you were doing anything special with your boyfriend.

Your outburst of laughter was embarrassing. You haven't had a boyfriend since your junior year of high school. The guys you knew made passes at you, sure. But they were so fucking childish. You hated it.

"Sor- hahaha -no, sorry. I don't have a boyfriend waiting for me under the mistletoe this year. I'm just going to be in my quiet dorm room. Waiting for this godforsaken stretch of time to end."

He didn't find that funny at all, which made you feel like an even larger tool. "So, you're just, going to be alone this Chrismas?"

You lifted your hood over your hair and answered him smoothly. "Yyyyep. I guess I'll see you when we're back in sex-sion? Eh?"

At long last, you got a laugh from him. "So wait. You're telling me that you're capable of laughter!?" You said sarcastically.

"I'm capable of more than you can imagine, little one."

That was it, your cunt fluttered at his suggestive admission. Grasping at anything to break that spell he cast over you. Those were the words that spurred on your attraction for your Human Sexuality professor.

"Well, if you're not doing anything this week, there's a French film playing at the old cinema on 11th and Craine. We don't have to go together. We don't even have to sit near each o-"

"YES. I mean, yeah. I'd love to go. What time?" You interrupted him so hard that he jumped a little at your shouting. He smiled. It was beautiful. He never smiled in class.

"There's a showing to- ah, damn it. Let me check my phone for the times again. Sorry. Hold on." He pulled his phone from his professor-y blazer, and scrolled through the listing. "Yeah. Ok, so there's showings tomorrow night at 7, 9:20, 11:40, and 2am."

Your heart sank to the floor. "Nothing tonight, huh?" He looked at you. So small and absolutely let down. He wanted to comfort you over this absurd disappointment. But that is a line he shouldn't cross. You were his student. It was against the school's code of conduct for him to do anything more than teach you. But this was a loophole. He was fairly certain he could talk himself out of any infraction.

Oh my god, how he wanted to reach his hand to your face. To lift your eyes to his with the pads of his fingers under your chin. It was such a stupid blunder. He almost wishes he hadn't said anything to you about it.

"I – no. I'm sorry, y/n. As it stands, the only showings are tomorrow. I prefer to go to the –"

"Earlier shows, right?" You asked, not even trying to shield him from your growing frustration at having to wait.

"Eh, no. No, actually, I prefer the later ones. The later, the better. Despite being a teacher, I really try to avoid people as much as possible. My friend group is pretty small. Anyway. Here's my card with my personal cell on the back. Let me know if I should expect you, hm? If I don't see you, please have a nice break."

You wanted to protest from the rooftop to keep him there talking with you. But there just wasn't a reason to say anything else. So you said goodbye and walked out into the freezing air. And head back to your 1/2 vacant dorm room.

The way back, you replayed the conversation between the two of you. It felt like a really long talk. But really, it took no longer than 10 minutes.

You felt a little stupid for getting upset about having to wait a whole day to see him. Well, if you decide to go, that is.

For now, you would find odd things to keep you busy to better pass the time.

* ● *● * ● * ●

You woke up feeling FANTASTIC. You slept for 9 hours. Your dreams were filled with Geto fucking you until you couldn't walk anymore so he had to carry you to his bed and fuck you to the point you couldn't talk. It was the best night in you've had in ages.

Today was the day you were supposed to meet him at the old theater for the French film. You picked up the jeans you were wearing yesterday and dug around for his phone number so you could let him know you would be joining him tonight.

"Whe– Where the fuck is that card! Shit! How am I supposed to call and let him ... oh goddamn it all to hell." You sat down on your bed and tossed your hands into your lap. "The later, the better. Ok. No one goes to an 11:40 movie over winter break. Right? Ok! So I'll just get there at 11:30 and go sit in the theater ... and, and wait. Where is that fucking card!?"

You ripped your desk apart. Shook out everything you wore when he gave it to you. It was nowhere to be found. But at least you knew roughly what time he would be there.

* ● *● * ● * ●

It was 8 pm, and you were beside yourself with anticipation. You'd already gotten yourself off twice and considering a third orgasm to dull your nervous edge just a bit more.

Instead of trying to ease your anxieties a 3rd time that way, you tried a shower with your favorite aromatic oils. You hated how well this shit worked. "It's so cliché, mom." You told her when she brought you back a box of oils from India.

That all changed when you made your own sandlewood and vanilla blend. You never gave her any shit again. And when they travel, she will oftentimes pick up some new oils for you to test. There's literally an oil for whatever is ailing you.

You were lucky to be one of the on-campus residents to have a newer dorm with a shower in the room. You were fine showering in a more public space, but there were time restrictions in the shared bathing areas.

Turning the water on, you took off your clothes and stepped into the steam. There was a part of you that wanted to take a leisurely shower. To exfoliate and shave and deep condition your hair.

But you were too nervous to hold a razor to your body. The looks Professor Geto had been giving you all semester had finally amounted to something. Was this a date? "I need to stop this hyperfocus shit. Gotta cum again."

You cracked open the shower door and stepped carefully out onto the mat on the floor to dry your feet. You've fallen too many times to not take shower safety seriously. And if you fell tonight you'd never forgive yourself for fucking up this chance.

Your new vibrator was still in its box in your nightstand drawer. You opened the packaging like a child on Christmas morning and started button mashing the 3 at the base of it to figure out which button did what.

"Let's see just what this baby can do. Ok. This button – oh! Oh ... damn." You raised your eyebrows. "I ... may never ... be stressed about anything again."

You figured out the most basic settings; the bunny ears got you off really quickly. Truthfully, it was the in-your-head Geto who did the heavy lifting. But you felt a little better.

You shaved everything you wanted to shave and exfoliated everything that was safe to exfoliate.

The outfit you chose was simple, but seen by the right eyes, it could be considered sexy. It was a long, large floral-print pattern over a solid green background and a white tight-fitting t-shirt. You wore boots with thigh-high socks. This provided you with some warmth from the cold. The socks were thick and connected to a garter belt around your waist so they wouldn't slouch down. You made the conscious decision to forgo panties for the night.

"Ok," you said. "You smell delicious. You're soft and silky. You. Are. Ready. Ready to sit with him for 2 hours and 20 minutes."

"S'do this, y/n."

* ● *● * ● * ●

Friday 11:30pm

11th and Craine @ The Faux Devant Theater

Film: Ton sexe. Mon sexe. Notre sexe.

Translation: Your sex, My sex, Our sex

* ● *● * ● * ●

"There's just the one movie playing here tonight?" You asked, embarrassed that you were alone and buying a ticket for a movie that had the word sex in it 3 times, and you didn't know what the other 3 words translated to.

"Yeah, this is here until the end of the week, and then we dig up another one. Blah blah blah."

You laughed at their apparent boredom with the job. "Ok, uh, 1 adult for," you pointed at the poster of the naked people in a lovers embrace. "For this one, I guess." They gave you your ticket, smirked, and told you to enjoy the show.

You went into the dark room, and you were surprised to see how it was set up. There was no traditional theater seating. But there were couches and loveseats spread smartly across the floor.

You looked around for anyone else who might be in there tonight. It was totally empty. Even the projection room lights were off.

The movie was going to start in about 5 minutes. Where was he? "Oh god. Ohhh nooo. Fuck. He's standing me up. And not in a good way, either. God, to think that he would sit through some stupid French flick with me."

You sank down into the loveseat in the middle of the room as your heart sank deeper into your heavy chest. Settling in to watch a movie that you wouldn't have chosen on your own. You were hoping for the best and expecting the worst.

The opening credits started to roll, and the story began to unfold. And quickly, to your surprise. There were subtitles, but you wanted to watch the story rather than read about it.

You're fairly certain that it was about a couple of people who knew nothing of each other or about sex. They experienced all the feelings that come with arousal and wanting another's touch. But they'd never *experienced* it themselves. Not under their own hand or someone else's. It was a sheltered existence they had before moving to the city.

There was one scene that will always stand out to you: They met by chance at a café.They reached for the sugared cinnamon to sprinkle on the foam of their cappuccino, and when their hands touched, neither one of them recoiled. They knew they had to be together come hell or high water. It was cheesy. But beautiful.

It was like because of touching the other person's hand, they finally belonged to this life. They were grounded by this single brush of skin. They were meant to be together.

They explored, touched, tasted their partner's body, and came to find that the only thing they'd been missing from their lives was the other person.

In the scene where they fully dive into their sexual awakening, you thought you heard someone stepping into the room. But you couldn't see anyone when you looked around, so you just turned your focus back to the film and watched these people devour one another.

They both gave of themselves and received everything physically possible. Some things you took note of. If nothing else, you could walk away from this with a few new tricks.

It left you in a frustrated state. Your hands dug into the soft fabric of the couch, and you shifted your weight often. You wondered for just a second what would happen if you spread your legs and slipped your fingers up under the long skirt you wore.

The movie and your feelings were bordering on pornographic. But you've always been a curious soul, so it didn't bother to see this. You were surprised that your professor had invited you to such a thing, though. How was that not crossing into misconduct?

You really didn't give a damn and pushed the thought to the back of your mind. The whole thing was quite beautiful, actually. Despite your growing frustration at Geto for not fulfilling his commitment to you. But no matter. You were no worse for the wear. What could have possibly happened with you two anyway.

Once the end credits came on the screen, you were sure there would be a wet spot on your skirt. You felt yourself filling with that familiar hot tension. Again. As if 3 orgasms just weren't enough for you to chase off the burning need.

You stood from your seat and put on your jacket before you walked out into the freezing night. As you turned around, your eyes zeroed in on a shadowed figure in the corner of the big room.

"Oh shhh–! Oh my god! You fucking scared me, professor! What the hell are you doing here ... now? The movie just ended." He stood up and seemed to glide across the floor to you. Like a vampire or something. He looked dark.

His hair was down; hanging over his shoulders and just a little in his face. But all he saw was you, standing there, trying to explain away your flushed skin as merely the frozen air that had slapped against your face.

Even though that was nearly 2 1/2 hours ago. It was not a good excuse. Nor were you very proud of it. "I'm glad you stayed to watch this," he said in a low tone. "I knew you'd watch it whether I was here or not."

"You mean, you ... you were here? The whole time, too? Why didn't you sit by me? Or, oh gosh, I dunno, at the very least say something to me?" He could see you were getting pissed at him.

Geto knew it was a little dirty to play with you this way. But he couldn't help himself. You are an adult. A big girl, even though you weren't wearing your big girl panties tonight.

"I wanted to study your reaction to the film. And from the looks of your rosy cheeks and dampened spot on your skir– well, imagine my surprise when I saw you enjoying this.

"My skirt and how wet it is OR isn't, isn't really any of your business. Is it? Pro– Geto?" You stopped yourself from calling him professor and called him by his name. It made you two closer to equals that way. Not teacher and student. Just horny woman and sexpot man.

"Oh. I see. So you're saying it's possible that your little cunt was squirming throughout these last 2 hours? And tell me, pretty girl, just what was it you imagined could tame the burning between your legs? Hm? Was it the toy you fucked yourself with earlier but imagined they were me? How many times did thinking of me make you cum? 3? 4?"

He snapped a black band from his wrist and threw his hair up in a careless bun. "Oh. Fuck," you thought. "This man is obsessed with me and stalking me and, and ..." Your thoughts trickled off as you realized how stupid you sounded thinking this garbage. He wasn't interested in you.

As relieved as you felt at that conclusion, you were also hit with a brief sadness that you were just another student to him. He's probably invited all kinds of people to cinema. You were no more special than the last.

"Relax, sweetheart. I don't have cameras set up in your bathroom watching you or anything. That would be tacky. I just know your type. You're easily scared."

You laughed at this.

"You get off to relieve tension and stress."

"Yeah? So? Who doesn't?" You shot back at him.

"Fair enough, fair enough." He looked amused by your argument. "Mm. Well, this is all very interesting. But it's time, once again, to watch, so sit down." He pointed to the place next to him.

You openly mocked him for ordering you around. "'Sit down? Sit," your laughter was spiteful. "Sit down. Oh-kay professor." There was that word again. "I've already seen the movie, thanks."

Geto reached up to take your hand and place it against his soft lips. He held it there for a moment and said, "Yes, but you haven't seen it with me." He rooted his dark eyes to yours and stuck the tip of his tongue between where your index and middle finger met. And licked you.

"Sit." And you did.

Wet pussy and all.

The movie has started, and all you want to watch is Geto. The man is beautiful. It made you almost angry about how beautiful he was.

30 minutes into it. He has kept to himself.

45 minutes into it, and his breathing hasn't even changed. But you're feeling the slick between your legs becoming more and more prevalent. Your skirt is getting the worst of it. You're not sure why you do this, but you uncross your legs. Hoping against hope that the way they were pressed together, the way they forced your pussy to rub on itself, would stop.

You were going crazy from this man's indifference.

1 hour into it, and you feel him turn and look at you. He readjusts himself on the plush seat and puts his hand on your knee.

You looked at him, thinking again of how the sharp tip of his wet tongue felt between your fingers. Your breath hitched for just a moment, and he took notice of the change in your demeanor.

Your body is no longer languid on the wide cushion beneath you. Geto wants you to relax while under his watchful eye. He wants to see you come apart at his fingertips. He wants to put you back together, too.

"Is this ok, pretty girl?" Geto asks in an almost too-quiet voice. He looks at you as shadows dance around the room. The couple in the movie has just discovered going down on one another. You watch them with an unwavering focus because if you don't, you're afraid you'll climb on your companions' face and suffocate him between your thighs.

"Mm. You're not comfortable with this. That's fine." He started to pull his hand back from your knee, and you turned your attention to him. Ready to protest his withdrawal, you stumble for your words. "I, I neh–" You clear your throat and try again. "Fuck! I never said that I wasn't comfortable with your hand on my knee. We're not in middle school, Geto. Put your hand on my fuckin' knee if you want to. It doesn't make any difference to me."

He cocked an eyebrow. "No? No difference at all. You're a bigger pain in the ass than I gave you credit for." He shook his head. "I think it's best if I just go. Would you like a ride home?"

"A ride home? Are you fucking kidding me?" You pulled his hand over and sat it on your lap. About 5 or 6 inches above where he'd originally positioned it before. "It ... does ..." You nearly choked on your words this time. "It does make a difference. Ok? OK? Happy now?"

Geto scooched a little closer to you so he could relax, and his hand would stay where you put it. He smiled. "I am. Thank you."

His hand was a double entendre. It made you wonder how something so presumably light could feel so heavy. Such a calming gesture, making you feel so wild.

Geto's right index finger began to draw small but deep 8's over your skirt into your skin. He could feel how warm your body was getting.

You're breathing heavily now. He leaned up and got much closer to you and reached up to brush one of your stray hairs aside like it was the whole reason for the sudden lack of oxygen to your brain.

1 1/2 hours, and his hand is the only thing holding you to this earth. You could sprout wings and fly away. You feel lighter, somehow. Even though he's tethered you here. Tied you to this couch that's seen god knows what. Will it get a new viewing of its own tonight, perhaps?

A particularly graphic scene comes up as you sit there next to Geto. You try to look away, but his grip on your leg tightens. You feel a wave of dizziness as his piercing eyes lock onto yours. "I didn't ask you to the movies with me so you could stare at the wall. Watch this. Learn. Listen. Why do you think that it's impossible to keep love and sex separate during the course of a relationship? And I'm not referring only committed ones.

"A sexual relationship doesn't have to be anything more than the expression of appreciation for someone's physical beauty." He continued. "Love usually runs deeper. To a person's soul. I mean, if you believe that people have souls."

You rolled your eyes. "I hate to play the sexist card. But leave it to a man – a really fucking attractive man, no less, to downplay the closeness that can resonate during sex. Lovemaking. Fucking. Call it what you want. But that's about as intimate as you can get with another person. And I think it's a really vulnerable posit–"

Geto started belly laughing. He lifted his hand from you to hold his flat stomach as he cracked up at your expense. "Listen to you. You sound like a virgin who's grown up watching only movies where there's a happy ending. A true happy ending with a knight in shining armor riding in on his unicorn steed carrying a single white rose because only the best for his untouched bride." He laughed another hard chuckle and looked back at your unamused face.

"You can be a real asshole, you know that." You said. "Just because I think that love AND sex go hand in hand doesn't mean I live for Disney movies. I'm well aware of the harsh realities surrounding love and sex. The way that people are lulled into a false sense of security. They give themselves fully over only to be kicked in the teeth and left on a curb holding a sign that says, 'I'm broken, but give me a chance. PS I'm a good cook, b‐t‐dubs.' And furthermore, it's no secret that the more invested a person becomes in their S/O, the more they turn themselves over to th—"

Geto leaned in and kissed you so lightly on your lips that were moving a thousand words a minute . "Who hurt you." He asked after pulling back. His smile was like a corrosive gel that you could slather on the most tarnished surface to get the ugly off.

You were surprised at how gentle his lips were against yours. You always imagined your time with him would be, well, not that tender. "W–what was that for?" Goddamn it. Why were you always suspicious of people who showed you any interest?

He was silent. After a long pause, he finally spoke, "I wanted to see what it would feel like." You scrunched up your face without even realizing it and asked him if he's ever kissed anyone.

"Are you fucking dumb? Of course I've kissed people. Many people. Men. Women. Any adult on the 'human' spectrum." He rubbed the back of his neck with his left hand. "Ahh. I wanted to see what it was like to kiss you. Ok?"

You thought about that for a moment before leaning over and kissing him again. Softly. Timidly. Sparingly. You were afraid to give too much of yourself to this man. Through kiss or otherwise. It would be too easy to become all consumed with him. You could see yourself vanishing in his wake.

"And that? What was that for?" He asked, staring at you through lustful eyes. You shrugged playfully.

You're not even watching the movie anymore. Really, there was not much point for both of you to sit through it again. You wouldn't forget about the story for a long while to come.

He grabbed your hand and pulled you closer to him. "Prof–professor Geto ... I ... I ..." Your words were desperate. They almost came across as whines. You hoped he'd only note the neediness in your voice and not the pathetic way you're so touch starved.

"Yes, y/n? Tell me. Just ... just tell me." You ran your fingers down the back of his head, eliciting a heavy shiver as you sat down, straddling him. You could feel the bulge grow beneath your spread cunt. He reached to cup your breasts in his slow hands.

You dropped your forehead to his, and for a moment, you wondered if he knew you were bare under your skirt, save for the belt and your socks. You pooled your skirt up around your waist, exposing your thighs and ass. He does now, you thought.

Geto's hands fell to your legs, and he rubbed the soft skin heartily. He leaned forward and grabbed up the most round part of your ass cheeks, and pulled you closer to him. You could feel the slick gathering on his pants. The fabric covering his zipper began to feel tacky.

"Wha– do you wa–want, y/n? Tell me what you want ... from me." You let out a moan as he massaged and held your breasts. He licked around your nipples and nibbled at the mounds of hot flesh.

Your movements on top of him were becoming more and more focused. It was all you could do to not reach between your balanced bodies and denude his cock from its cloth prison. He let out a low moan as you started stroking your pussy against him harder. Your body quivered with pleasure as he tipped forward, putting his mouth on the outside of your ear.

"Do you want ... this?" He sat you down on the couch again and got down on his knees on the floor before you. Geto kissed from where your garter belt stopped on your right leg all the way around. He stopped to lick at your slick opening a few times before turning his attention back to your other thigh, continuing to kiss you there until he was met with the clasps on the opposite leg.

His hands slid easily under your twitching legs as he pulled you to the edge of your seat. "Watch me, not the movie. Understand, pretty?"

You brushed rogue bangs aside to see his face better. "Mmm .... mmhmm." You nodded almost maniacally as he began licking your clit with the focused tip of his tongue. It was all you could do to not slam your head back. It felt so good.

There was a gradually growing wet spot underneath you on the loveseat (now you see that it was ironically named). Geto started to taunt your opening with the tip of his finger. Your body jolted whenever he retreated despite him not really even entering you.

"What do you want, y/n?" You wished that you could talk. That you weren't such a fucking blubbering mess after he'd been going down on you for less than 5 minutes.

"Ah, I wan' – fffuck." You can't hold your head up any longer, so you lay it against the back, still eyeing him. "I want you ..." You manage to say the words clumsily. If your eyes were daggers, he'd have bled out by now.

"You got it." He knelt in front of you and spread your legs and pushed his hands under the long skirt.

He passes the clips on your thighs with his roaming hand. You feel a mix of excitement and nervousness as you try to concentrate. Taking a deep breath, you remind yourself of the hours of preparation. You'd be damned if you weren't going to be rewarded for all of it.

"Do ... do you think anyone will come in?" You asked, suddenly aware you're on display right now."

Geto didn't answer. "Muhh." He was too focused on you. Whatever kind of answer that was. It made you wonder if he was just being agreeable or actually listening.

"Get‐Oh shiiiittt. Oh my god, y-yes. Hmmm..." You didn't remember there were other people on the planet right now. His face was completely buried between your thighs. You see now that he couldn't answer if he wanted to. And from the way he was devouring you, you knew assuring you wasn't at the top of his to-do list.

He went at you like you were an iceblock in the most stark desert. Licking you and sucking you into his mouth. His tongue swirling around your clit had you squirming out of his grasp.

It wasn't that you wanted to break his grip on you. But the feelings were so intense. All focused on one ... tiny ... spot.

"Oh god, Geto, I need ... fffuck. I haf'ta ... " Your words were failing you.

He sat up, licking his lips, smiling at you. His hair disheveled from your fingers, finding their way onto his head. "S' sweet, pretty."

He helped sit you up and sat down next to you. His eyes drunk on your body as he looked at your lips for a minute. The corners of your mouth turned upward slightly as you inched your way over to him.

"Scoot back," you told Geto. You got on your knees on the small couch and leaned over, resting on your elbows. He was so hard. You just wanted him inside of you so badly.

You rested just above his lap as you undid his belt, button, and zipper. He muttered something and moved to help you. "Uh-uh. It's my turn now." You said, and Geto laughed a little. "Who am I to argue."

You pushed his pants down to his knees and then gently, like you were holding a priceless artifact, pulled his thick cock out from his boxers.

You couldn't help but gasp a little as you held it. The way he watched you look it over made you feel nervous. Like you had never seen something like this before. His gaze remained on you as you closely inspected each vein and all the characteristics of it.

You brought the head to your lips and kissed it, immediately dragging a moan from Geto's throat. You've never been with someone who so easily gave themselves over to the sounds. If it were at all possible, you were turned on even more at his vocalizations.

There was no hurry here on your part, so you took things slowly. You were also hoping he had nowhere to be at 2 am.

Adjusting your position so you could rest on his thighs and still utilize your hands, you slipped and felt him hit the back of your throat. "F.U.C.K." You thought. "Does he know I slipped or does he think I'm just amazing?!"

You remembered your roommate telling you the crazy shit her and her boyfriend do. "Yeah, it's really simple once you get your breathing under control. When you master that, you could choke back an actual eggplant." She told you one night after she stumbled in half naked. You promised to take her to coffee as a thank you for her invaluable advice on the subject.

"Ho– holy shit, y/n. That, that's – oh fuck." Geto was restraining himself from thrusting upwards anymore. You were doing well enough on your own.

Bringing your right hand up, you wrap it around his length and begin to stroke him. Your mouth still holding the tip, you lick him with a flat tongue.

"Y/n y/n y/n, fuck ..." He sounds and feels like he's close. You can detect the slight contracting in your mouth when you touch him a certain way or roll him around in your hot, wet mouth.

Geto reached down and cupped your face in his hands. "S-s- M'gonna, hah, ." You sat up, your skirt still somehow held in place at your waist. Your upper legs are shiny from sweat and your juices mixing around.

Geto was lifting his hips off of the couch, and the hand he had on the back of your head was becoming more firm and careless in its grip.

You started breathing heavily through your nose, preparing yourself for what you were about to do.

You took him so far deep, so suddenly, that he let out a noise you were sure was a staple in his infancy.

He leaned forward a bit and grabbed your shoulder with his right hand, and softly put his left on your ear.

"Fuck, y/n. Fucking h– oh, mmhhm, ffffuckkk!" You felt the heat hit the back of your throat and you instinctually swallowed.

You sat up and wiped your face with your forearm. It took him a moment for him to regain his composure, but he was smiling at you like you'd told him the secret to a happy life.

"Y/n. Why are you just sitting there?" The question caught you off guard. "Was – was I supposed to go?" Geto extended his arm to you, and you took it.

He pulled you up onto his lap, and you let out a little squeak at how easily he hauled you over. "Geto ... what'cha, what'cha doin'?"

"Calm down." He chuckled before he settled back into his spot on the couch. He sat you down, straddling him again, but this time, his pants were down.

"C'mere, sweetheart." He pulled you close into him, and he kissed you. Geto's arms wrapped around your waist, and his large hands kneaded the muscles on your back.

You kissed each other so deeply and slowly that you never wanted to stop. Your tongues twist around, leaving you both breathless but unwilling to be the first to pull away.

His bottom lip trailed from your neck to your collarbone, sending shivers down your spine. You let out a soft moan as his hands slid down your back.

You couldn't take the teasing you anymore. His cock was pressing into your wetness, practically begging to be swallowed up into you. "Geto ..." You tried to plead with his reasonable side. But he had no reasonable intentions right now.

Geto whispered in your ear, "You can have it all if you want." The temptation lingers to see how long you can dance over him like this. But ultimately, you sit down on him, taking his cock all the way inside of you.

Both of you throw your heads back, wildly different sounds erupting from your throats. Geto moaned deeply as you enveloped him. His skin was so hot to the touch. "Fuck Geto, ya feel s'good."

He raised your shirt above your chest and ran his thumbs over your nipples. "You're so fucking tight, y/n. Shit, I could – ah, fuck. I could cum right now."

You hastened your movements on him. The way his cock drags against your hot walls was clouding out the reality around you. "Mm–me t-to. Oh god, mmhmm. G'na cum!"

Geto slid his hand between your legs to rub your clit but he wasn't halfway with his reach when the two of you came together.

"Fuck, pretty girl." He lifted you up just enough to see him still inside of you. You looked down to see your body already letting go of the combined juices.

"Now, y/n. I have to ask. Do you love me? Or was that just sex?"

You laughed as your face turned a bright red. "I dunno. I think it's you who loves me."

Geto hooked his arms under your legs and flipped you onto your back on the couch. "Whoo! What're you doing!" You giggled and brushed his hair from his face.

"From a scientific perspective, I think this is going to require a lot of research."

You rolled your eyes, smirking. Geto lined himself up with you and eased his way in.

"For ... mm, ah ... for science!"

□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□

[stardusttheaters]

Out of Order.

This takes place after this thread when Elara runs away from Monty thanks to Titan distracting him so she can get to the clinic. Sorry for the delay. This is a one shot followed by a small event. Please do not respond to this thread.

As Elara ran away from their confrontation, Monty felt anger rising in his systems. It burned him alive. He almost couldn't stand the pain of his wires being fried a little from the heat. So. Angry! His violet optics were starting to turn a blood red.

Titan leaned his head back and gave Monty another firm headbutt. Hopefully that would help Monty focus. It usually worked.

"Focus on me, dipshit! We'd run into each other less often if you just followed the damn rules and got a fucking hobby." Titan growled.

This only seemed to make Monty angrier as he pushed away from Titan, that headbutt not doing anything to him this time. In fact, it only seemed to rile him up more. Monty stomped away from Titan by a few steps and threw his hands up in the air in exasperation.

"Is that all you ever care about?! Rule this, rule that!?" Monty pointed at Titan accusingly, "You allow Andromeda to bend and break every fucking rule it's disgusting! Hypocrite!"

Titan opened his mouth to say something. He quickly closed it, his face burning a dark copper tone in a silent admission of guilt. Andromeda really did get away with a lot... She could do anything except leave this place.

"Everyone else got a lot more freedom than I do. Hell. You even gave Chica permission to go into the kitchens. But I get a bunch of freaky turtle statues?!"

Titan's face color returned to normal as he couldn't help the smug grin that he gave the giant green rock star a nonchalant shrug and a smirk.

"To be honest with that one, Monty. You've been absolutely shit last year. You broke a stage bot, terrified a few customers and..." Titan's smirk fell straight into a deadpan stare, "You physically blocked a human staff member from her normal duties and tried to coerce her to come close to you. You know WHY that is forbidden."

Monty growled lowly at Titan. Of course he'd find out and talk to him about it someday.

"You got me on the tightest lock down out of all the Stars..."

Titan raised his voice in anger, gesturing a hand to the air in frustration, "BECAUSE YOU HAVE A VIOLENT TEMPER!? You've destroyed my original body because Andromeda sure fuck wasn't interested in you! You fought me TWICE because Chica wasn't interested in you either! You've broken a few stage bots AND you've nearly mauled that woman one time--!"

"Then WHY am I still here if I'm oh so dangerous!?"

Titan scoffed a bit, his voice turning cold, "Because the company sees the financial gain in having a quote un quote bad boy slash lady's man type of character on board. Honestly, Nico makes a better impression of yourself and without the violence. I'd decommission you myself if I could."

Monty stared at Titan. That line was nothing new to Monty. He's heard that line before and after Titan got his new body years ago. Now was the time to decide if he felt like fighting Titan today. He was leaning on a yes...

".... You're nothing more than a warden in this prison."

Titan shrugged. He knew there was some truth to that. He let out a tired sigh and pointed down the hallway.

"Then get back to your fucking cell, jackass. I don't have all day to waste time babysitting you."

Babysitting. Yeah. That'd do it. Hell. Monty has started a fight with this guy for nothing. Just because.

"Before I swing on you, Titan, answer me one thing..... what's so fucking special about that lil green bot that got away from me?"

Titan stared up at Monty, not daring to speak a word. This made Monty smirk mischievously.

"That your side piece?"

Titan's face screwed up to show a look of pure rage and indignation, "No?! She's a friend. Someone I'm trying to help you freakin-- SHE HAS A FAMILY, ASSHOLE!? Not every woman you see is up for grabs, as you would say! You're a fucking pig!"

Monty chortled darkly, "Says you, you smooth bastard. I've seen you with that other new friend of yours. The other dark sun model?"

Titan froze. He couldn't believe Monty was about to suggest what he was hinting at. Besides that -- Callisto was a... Situation of a feeling he hasn't really dealt with or handled yet. Especially with his conflicting emotions regarding Andromeda. But at the end of the day he could say that he did like Callisto. She was different... And he really.... really... didn't want Monty to speak her name. Or about her. He felt something inside of him twitch at the very thought of it.

"What about her...." Titan gave Monty a warning growl, one of his eyes turning a deep red color as he felt anger rise to the surface. Oh, Titan always did try to keep a lid on his anger. He hated it when he got out of control.

Monty grinned widely, now feeling a bit more in control of the situation. "A bit rough round the edges for my taste but I bet she's a sweet replacement for the Sun that doesn't love ya back, huh?"

That was so much worse to say. It felt like a bullet went straight into his metaphorical heart. That's -- that's not why he talks to Callisto at all!! To say that was-- That was just an ugly thing to say about her. Titan's stern face crumbled a bit and Monty's tail began to wag when he saw it. Oh that's new. He didn't know he could finally make Titan express emotion around him at all. Monty opened his jaw to say something else but Titan beat him to it.

Titan reached out to grab Monty by the snout with both hands. Both of his eyes were now red and his optics were slightly glassy from the emotional turmoil that was bubbling up inside of him. Monty struggled a bit but paused at Titan's trembling voice that shook with both fury and heartache.

"If you ever say anything like that about Callisto again, I will make sure the next time you turn on...it'll be with a clean AI and a new body. Maybe I'll suggest making you female JUST so you can be someone's bitch. I heard Bonnie was looking."

Oh that riled Monty up into a ferocious snarl. That got the fighting spirit in him. Monty dropped to the ground, yanking Titan with him, and performed a Gator's death roll. The pair tumbled and clanged loudly in the hallway. Rather than investigate the noises, the entire Theater seemed to go dead quiet. No one who knew wanted to be near them...

Titan grunted as he was tumbled around in the hall and struggled to regain his footing. He was forced to let go of Monty's snout and rolled away a couple of feet. He groaned a bit as he was tossed against the wall in such a stunt, his head smacking against the wall harshly. It caused his vision to see double as it rattled his optics. Titan struggled to get up to his feet as the world spun around. Monty was going to take that to his advantage. While Titan did outclass him by just a SMIDGE in strength, he had claws and teeth to his advantage. If he could gain the upper hand in any way, he'd take it. While Titan was struggling to recalibrate, Monty pounced. He got to his hands and feet and launched at Titan full force, knocking him over and pinning Titan below him.

He roared in his fury, unable to make coherent words. Monty swiped at Titan with his claws rather than closed fists. The sound of metal tearing could be heard and Titan did raise his arms to try to defend his head. He lifted his legs and firmly bucked Monty off of him. They pair scrambled for dominance as Titan swatted away the damage reports.

Torn face, missing optic, torn chassis, torn arms, major oil lines cut open, one fan crushed and inoperable, damaged battery port --

It was through sheer will power and anger that Titan had the energy to get up and give Monty one good punch across the face. Monty let out a pained yelp as his lower jaw was ripped clean off. He stared at the floor in shock, watching as his lower jaw clanged to the floor violently from the sheer power Titan put into that hit. Monty stared at Titan in shock.

Titan's body shook violently before it froze in place....and then fell over. It seems his body ran out of oil.... Monty stared at the security guard in shock. This mother fucker...... He was holding back on him. But. Why? Monty shook his head. He quickly picked up his lower jaw and stumbled out of the hallway, leaving Titan's body behind.

[mids-stupid-shit]

Mortal Kombat incorrect quotes 7: Earthrealm champions vs the DooDoo syndicate

SABBIA: I'm going to get us a ride if you two could manage not to kill eachother while I'm gone.

ROBIN: Oh please, we aren't children.

*Sabbia walks away, while Muchacha and Red Robin look at eachother*

MUCHACHA: Eat shit and die.

ROBIN: Yes, fuck you.

--------------------------------------------------

TREMOR: [reading a file he, Kobra and Kira stole from Kano's cabinet] Theory implies that those who were lost in the Bermuda triangle are now citizens of the lost empire of Atlantis.

*Kobra and Kira are barely keeping their shit together out of laughter*

KOBRA: N-no!

KIRA: Now, all my anger that I had from the last few fights I've been in is now equal to the anger I feel right now.

KOBRA: Are they breathing underwater??

--------------------------------------------------

*teen Kuai, Cyrax and Sektor fucking with a Ouija board*

KUAI: What happened to you, Enenra?

SEKTOR: How many pickles can you shove up your ass?

*9*

SEKTOR: 9?!-

*91*

CYRAX: 91?!?--

*910*

KUAI: NINE HUNDRED AND TEN!?!?!?!??!?!?!

*Cyrax and Sektor rolling on the floor while Kuai looks at the board with utter disbelief*

KUAI: 910 pickles??

--------------------------------------------------

CASSIE: [about her drone going offline] Shit... Remote control tracking is great until Mommy's little death machine decides to go off the rails...

*cut to Takeda, Jaqui and Kung Jin looking at her from like six feet away*

--------------------------------------------------

REPTILE: May I ask about your methods, emperor?

KOTAL: You may.

REPTILE: You let an Earthrealm refugee, a brute with a small child, and Shang Tsung's creation work for you...

KOTAL: Yes, and?

REPTILE: What in the Netherrealm do you have against Tarkatans?

KOTAL: ...

--------------------------------------------------

SEKTOR(mk1): Listen here you little shit. You will return the armor to us or I'll rip it off piece by piece!

CYRAX(mk1): Sektor, your mother is more threatening than you.

--------------------------------------------------

JOHNNY: I completely changed my mind. If I die I won't fold clothes or be nice or anything, I just Want to be a ghost cop.

KENSHI: I can already imagine that as your next movie.

JOHNNY: Coming this fall, Johnny Cage is... GHOST COP!

--------------------------------------------------

KUNG LAO: You next line is "Where there is Smoke, there is fire." ISN'T IT?

SMOKE: Where there is Smoke, there is fire. [Le gasp]

--------------------------------------------------

HANZO(old): Remember son, dying is gay...

HANZO(new): Yes, father.

--------------------------------------------------

KUAI: We need a plan to stop Havik.

JOHNNY: I got like five.

KUAI: It can't involve murder.

JOHNNY: ... Anyone else have any plans?

--------------------------------------------------

*several members of the Black Dragon got together at a restaurant*

KIRA: For the last time, Kobra, no one gives a shit.

KOBRA: I promise, this'll be good... Gentlemen, let me ask you a question. Do you think human flesh would taste horrible, or would it actually rock?

*Kira spits out and chokes on her soup*

TREMOR: Do you have to ruin all of our appetites?

KIRA: WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?! That's it, go sit at the dipshit table!

[chronosh0t]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ「 ༄៎ .*ೃ 𝐅𝐄𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐁𝐋𝐔𝐄

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒: male x Lee, canon-divergence? perhaps, explicit content if you squint hard enough, my own commandant (Zenas) because using the same pronouns can be confusing. ㅤㅤㅤ〔NO BETA〕ㅤㅤ MDNI！

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒: so, you know the horns? well, now it's the back... you need to read the horns one since it's lowkey a continuation of it.

✂…………………………………………………………………………………………………

Zenas was not having it today. Honestly speaking, he's never having it actually, because every day in Babylonia seemed like hell with all the work he has to do no matter what hour of the day, not to mention dealing with dipshits believing they are some superior beings just for having a “title”.

His anger piling up with each passing second and the lack of proper sleep didn't help, not even a bit. Unfortunately, skipping work wasn't part of his options, considering he had already postponed finishing some maintenance and files. But that didn't mean he couldn't have a few minutes of free time in between and relax a bit in the lounge.

Lee's new frame maintenance was over as well. He was now back to Hyperreal however that means he was also having double the jobs to take care of, as the only frame that could fight directly with the virus without getting infected and corrupted, almost every team in Babylonia wanted him. It was definitely not something Zenas was loving. Lee was his.

So, after working for five minutes, he decided it was time for a well deserved break of an hour. Humming a song he couldn't remember when he heard it first, his legs were taking him to his favourite room, where his favourite construct was now either reading a complicated book about maths just for fun or…working. In any case, Zenas wanted to see him.

Reaching the door, he knocked twice and waited for a response, a calm voice that'd let him in. But nothing came. He went for another two knocks, this time, he added more strength, waited again. Silence. Overly anxious and worried that something might have happened to Lee, he rushed inside. The room was clean and not a single book was out of its place. It was too quiet.

He slowly made his way and there he was. Constructs don't need to sleep, they don't feel tired, but Lee was… sleeping? Or you could say he was in some hibernation mode, he would usually do that when his M.I.N.D was overloaded from working outside, on earth. Sitting on a chair, his arms crossed over the table and his head resting on them. His eyelashes would flicker a little, as if he wanted to wake up but couldn't, blond hair a bit messed up. He looked extremely adorable.

Zenas’ eyes roamed around and stopped at his back. Lee's jacket had a back window cutout, so it was exposed. He could see the details of his frame as well as that blue light coming from specific parts. There was an itching sensation on Zenas' fingers, he wanted to touch. His hand was a few centimetres from Lee's back when he suddenly felt a deja vu. Didn't he do something similar before? Oh, right, how could I forget. Palefire's horn…

He thought, and kept thinking. If Palefire's horn were so sensitive, then what about his back? The more he looked at his back, the more he wanted to try and test his theory. Might as well risk it all if it means he would get a similar reaction. So, not restraining himself, Zenas let his mind go free and his hand rested on Lee's back. Fingertips tracing every single line with a delicacy he never had before for anyone else.

There was no reaction, probably because Lee was in that state but when he was already thinking of retracting his hand a soft moan filled the room. Zenas' hand stopped, and then moved his finger again. Another moan. He was smiling, as expected, his back was also sensitive and that single thought started to consume his sanity and left nothing but desire to keep teasing the blond Construct.

ㅤㅤㅤ“What do you think you're doing?”

The voice startled him, Lee was awake, and he was fucking angry.

ㅤㅤㅤ“Fucking hell, you scared the shit out of me.” Zenas answered, giggling at the situation. Because yes, Lee was angry but he also knew the boy would never do anything to him, and if Zenas was brutally honest, Lee looked hot.

ㅤㅤㅤ“You didn't answer my question.” he said, standing from the chair and taking some distance by walking a bit further away from the human, his hands already tapping on a screen.

ㅤㅤㅤ“You're sensitive all over. Just wanted to tease you.”

Denying it was stupid. Besides, he knew Lee very well, and he was completely sure the boy was flustered as hell because he would always resort to work and focus on whatever is in front of him in order to avoid eye contact. That's what he was going now, looking away, pretending to be focused on something else and ignoring Zenas' presence in the room.

But Lee was too fully aware. His cheeks were red and he hated himself for being so damn weak. Zenas was shortening the distance between them, there was nowhere to run or hide, Lee's mechanical heart was beating way too fast for his own good.

He felt shivers the moment the human's fingers touched his back again. Tracing in circles and Lee couldn't avoid remembering that day when he was messing around with Palefire's horn, how he was touching him, how Lee reacted to that and what he said before leaving. No amount of cold water could've subdued the heat climbing up to his body.

ㅤㅤㅤ“Are you thinking about that day?” Zenas whispered in his ears, soft lips touching him, that familiar voice reverberated inside of him, echoing and leaving marks. He gripped tightly the pen he was writing some reports and broke it in pieces.

ㅤㅤㅤ“Shall we continue, babe?” Zenas said, keeping one of his hands on Lee's back, while the other was going into places Lee wished he didn't have.

The human's body was hot, pressed against Lee and the latter was losing it. He could feel his pulse reaching a speed he never experienced, not even when fighting the most difficult and dangerous ascendant out there. It was hard to keep his voice down, especially when Zenas was leaving pepper kisses all over his neck, ears, and one of his hands playfully touching his inner thighs.

Zenas was a bit impatient but he didn't want to rush anything, it was really difficult to hold himself back. He grabbed Lee by his waist and forced him to face him. Eyes locked, the Construct's eyes had tears formed already, his cheeks tinted of the brightest red, parted lips and soft pink marks on his neck. It was an amazing sight indeed. Zenas lowered his body a bit, and in the blink of an eye Lee was sitting on the desk with Zenas between his legs. The light kisses from before were now more aggressive, tongue tracing every single tooth. Muffled moans coming out of Lee, both of his hands firmly grasping Zenas' hair and his legs wrapped around the human's waist.

It was too hot. Lee felt like his frame and M.I.N.D were about to explode due to the excessive heat he was feeling. But he didn't want Zenas to stop. He didn't care if others could hear them, he didn't care if he was losing his cool. Right now he just wanted to get fucked by his favourite human.

────────────── ❁ ──────────────

〔 🎐 〕... 𝚜𝚘, 𝚢𝚎𝚊𝚑. 𝚒 𝚠𝚒𝚜𝚑 𝚒 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚐𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚊𝚝 𝚠𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚗𝚜𝚏𝚠 𝚋𝚞𝚝, 𝚖𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚒𝚖𝚙𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚕𝚢, 𝚒 𝚠𝚒𝚜𝚑 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚐𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚊𝚝 𝚠𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚒𝚗 𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚕.

〔 🎐 〕 𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚠𝚊𝚢, 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚞𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚟𝚒𝚘𝚞𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝙸 𝚠𝚛𝚘𝚝𝚎 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝙿𝚊𝚕��𝚏𝚒𝚛𝚎'𝚜 𝚑𝚘𝚛𝚗(𝚢). 𝙸 𝚑𝚘𝚙𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚐𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚎𝚗𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑, 𝙸'𝚖 𝚜𝚘 𝚊𝚠𝚔𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚍 𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚗𝚘𝚠.